Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. “I may be leaving where I am in a few days, so very likely you will be no better off. Think, ma’am. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. ” Ennison took an easy chair. " "Zounds!" exclaimed Wood; "it's my old master-key. He was amused. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand.
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