His curiosity put itself into a question. 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. His hands came up, his face broke apart. "Get it over quickly," said Trenchard, in a whisper to the thief-taker. With astonishment, Gerald saw a rheumy film rimming his old commander’s eyes. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. Earles asked sharply. She agreed entirely with her brother. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their discomfiture. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know.
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