As it was feared that some mischief would ensue, Wild volunteered, if he were allowed a small body of men, to ride forward to Tyburn, and keep the ground clear until the arrival of the prisoner. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. . Mr. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry.
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