‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. . . ” Courtlaw was pale and dishevelled. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. My first visit will be to you. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. ’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. Cathy Beck was outraged. 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.
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