. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. " He bent his head to his knees. —"As Rowland's whole crew perished in the tempest, and he only escaped by miracle, he fancied himself free from detection. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. "Your business, Sir?" returned the other, stiffly. " "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. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching.
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