" "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby.
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