Norris informed me," returned Charcam, respectfully; "and there's a person without, anxious for an audience, whom, with submission, I think your honour would desire to see. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. The arrest of this person is of consequence to me. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. After all, old P.
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