But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. Annabel shook her head. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. You simply can’t. But the love of life prevailed over his fears. The hansom drove off.
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