"And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. ‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant.
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