"I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have reference to so humble a person as Mrs. Stanley, at the door. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects.
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