While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that.
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