"Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. 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. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. “Jacques is wounded and we are arrested by this imbecile of a sergeant. His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. ’ A twinkle crept into Mrs Sindlesham’s eye. John Sheppard.
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