Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. His smile faded. Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself.
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