" CHAPTER XVIII. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. If he escapes at all, it must be before our faces. Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps.
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