“What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. ’ It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the short distance to Stratton Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and entered a pleasant woodpanelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Peste, but everything had become difficult. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. "The chief of the detective agency informed me that it would be best not to let Mr.
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