David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. But I have powerful friends. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. The door of cabin 2 was open.
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