‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. At one time, she determined to go to Wych Street, and ask Mr. ” Anna never flinched. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. Wood.
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