At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. " "Detained!" echoed Marvel. He was a stranger. Jonathan had to feel his way. She caught the fact that it was something more than strong drink that laid you out. "I should like to know where Mr. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. That is the dreadful truth.
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