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"Here!" shrieked Lady Trafford. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. She thought of using her new brute strength to kidnap and ransom Gianfrancesco. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. Being in a great hurry, he took little heed where he set his feet; and a board giving way, he must have fallen, if he had not grasped a large plank laid upon the transverse beam immediately over his head.
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