CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. " So saying, he dismounted; and flinging his bridle to his companion, and ordering him to ride off to a little distance, he followed Jack, who had quitted the main road, and struck into a narrow path opposite the cage. I told you, Sir Rowland," he added, turning to the knight, and chuckling, "the devil never deserts me. Marthe has told me that the house comes to my mother, Ma—ry Re—men—ham. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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