Very gently indeed, Alderley grasped the handle of the door and stealthily turned it. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. Oh, peste, he will ruin all. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words. Some few of the individuals seated at the other tables seemed to take an interest in the proceedings of Blueskin and his party, just as a bystander watches any other game; but, generally speaking, the company were too much occupied with their own concerns to pay attention to anything else. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. You've never seen a typhoon, have you?" "No.
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