” “You can’t be that,” said Ann Veronica, wisely. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. He'll settle it bravely. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. " "Ah! indeed! what's he doing here?" inquired Jack. . “Please stay,” she said briefly. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Vee’s all right. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging.
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