Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. “If he is not here now I can make myself safe. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. Anna was singing as she used to sing. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. Will you be a faithful and honest wife? Will you do your duty by him, and forget all your past follies? Unless, Annabel, you can——” “Oh, I will pledge you my word,” Annabel cried passionately, “my solemn word.
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