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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Kneebone nodded. Maggot. He staggered back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself, Thames tripped up his heels, and, placing the point of the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he attempted to stir, or cry out. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. Your adoptive father understands mankind better. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker.
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