” She fought to keep her teeth from chattering. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland.
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