Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. ” “No, don’t say that. . Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. She understood. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief.
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