’ The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for the moment. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. ” “They’ll find out. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should.
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