\" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. " "That 'ud be no such easy matter," replied the countryman. "You see?" Ruth said. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night.
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