"Here," repeated her brother. Nowhere could he see that reaching, menacing Hand. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. No man knew whence she had come nor why. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son.
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