Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. They were true noblemen, men of the court. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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