He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. I forget. His glance came up again and met hers. “What are you doing?” He cried. " "Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the group, all of whom returned the salutation. But after the first shock came a warm glow of relief. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. I’m not such a bad sort.
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