"Now stand before me, Poll. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. One with the appearance of a bald little gnome yawned agonizingly. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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