” “Not exactly. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. 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. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. She received into her slack grasp the pistol and dagger, only half aware of taking them. God knows how you did it.
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