" "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. “Perhaps for myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and he will not like having been deceived. ‘That way. "But trifle with mo no longer. The militia offered little in the way of relief. I can accommodate you below. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops.
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