’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the odour of drugs. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. Wood's. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. You want music. It now occurred to him that she had always been fully dressed. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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