"Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. ” She laughed. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I.
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