Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. He could not tell whether she was English or American. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. He knew. What have you got to say?" "Too much," replied Kneebone, shaking his head; "sadly too much. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats.
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