At eight o'clockhe stood up and stretched his cramped limbs. Behind the curtain of snow the two worldsnckered back and forth, like images in a magic lantern - onemoment Hanover-square, one moment dreary fields and a black writing upon thesky. Why not write to Mr Strange? said Mr Honeyfoot, suddenly. Magic! That is chiefly used forkilling Frenchmen, is it not? Dr Robert laughed in a sarcastic manner.
No, no, no! You must return here! We have a greatdeal to do. You are afraid, said Strange, drawing back displeased. Then he turned upon his heel and disappeared into theDarkness. He is here, muttered Drawlight and hastened forward.
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