CHAPTER X. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. Vorsack echoed him. " "Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing away his pipe, which was just finished. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. .
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