" "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. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. To-night they say he will be conscious.
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