“Not a bit. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. He had been formally adopted by the Becks at the age of twelve. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. This request, however, was refused; and he was told that the only way in which he could entitle himself to his Majesty's clemency would be by discovering who had abetted him in his last escape; the strongest suspicions being entertained that he had not affected it alone. There was absolute quiet. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening.
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