” Mike’s head butted in the door. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. "Zounds!" cried Kneebone, furiously. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. " "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly.
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