" "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. " "I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other, sternly. “P. You will not find it else. At once there came an answering knock. Now, you know where he is bound. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me.
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