‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. The Chapel. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles, and bruised hands; streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water; he sank against the wall, and while in this state was seized with, a sudden and strange alarm. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend.
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