Forgive me. ” “Served the beast right,” Ennison declared. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. 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.
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