A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. " "My strength fails me," gasped the fugitive. “One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp.
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