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Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. The only safe place for him is at sea; and if he had kept to the sea, I shouldn't have found him so easily. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. But, what brought you here?" "Excuse me, Sir Rowland.
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