" "Wear that to-night, then. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. “What’s that for?” He said. ” She changed the subject abruptly. ‘Oh, peste. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. and Mrs. If you choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang yourself, Sir Rowland.
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