"Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. "How are you off there, Shoplatch?" inquired Kneebone. No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs.
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