Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. “I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. I always fall on my feet, you know. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone.
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