"And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. ‘We mean you no harm,’ he said reassuringly. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. " "If you're in earnest," rejoined Blueskin, "give me that bag of gold.
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