" Casting one look of anguish at his leader, Blueskin then darted down the passage. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. "I carried them off on the fatal night when we got into Wild's house, and you were struck down," replied Blueskin.
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