"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. If you don't conquer this disgraceful propensity in time, you'll soon come to want; and then nothing can save you. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him.
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