Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. “It does nothing but sit there. I sent my check for ten thousand; and it has cost me six thousand to find you. He did not quarrel with Rowland's profusion, for his own revenues were ample; but he did object to the large sums lavished by him in the service of a faction he was resolved not to support.
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