At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Cathy commented, “You look very nice, Lucy. The latter formed by far the most knavish-looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage.
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