“You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. She is no longer mine; she is yours. Two packets were committed to your charge, which you undertook to deliver,—one to another priest, Sir Rowland's chaplain, at Manchester, the other to Mr. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. You have spoken her name, I think, Marthe. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. The moment my escape is known, a large reward will be placed on my head. She decided to go on, after a momentary halt.
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