" "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. (“Good job.
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