At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. Before any assistance could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild in his clutches. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. The next moment, however, he was picked up, and set upon his feet by a person who, having witnessed the accident, flew across the road to his assistance. CHAPTER XXIX.
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