"All's bowman, my covey. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. It appeared from what he said that he had been captured when asleep,—that his liquor had been drugged,—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be taken alive.
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