‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked.
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