He was all alone, too. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. “Well,” she said. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood.
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