Her sister’s words were true. The Times slipped from his fingers. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence.
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