"All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. Are you satisfied?’ Grudgingly, Jack Kimble took back the coins. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I.
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