And now YOU’RE on the war-path. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever. The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms.
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