’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. Then she saw him. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Wood. Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me.
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