’ Gerald opened his eyes at her. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. The pistol fell to the floor. "He's not to blame," said Jack, rising. " "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.
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