Brendon,” he said, “may I rob you of your guest just for the drive home? I have only a few hours in England, and Miss Pellissier is an old friend. I will write to your major, and you will send the letter very quickly. I would that you were my own. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic. “Goodnight. Your maid would not be of the least protection. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him.
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