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And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. "Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!" cried Thames. He died when I was. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. " "But, mother, mayn't I sit up to see whether Thames returns?" implored Winifred. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it.
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