She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. 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. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. I received a telegram, as you know, during dinner. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. Did you really doubt if I knew?” “No. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand.
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