This key," he added, taking it from the boy, "was purloined from me by your father, Jack. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. "Lead on!" Followed by Darrell, Jonathan retraced his dangerous path.
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