Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. Influenced, probably, by what he had heard from Mr.
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