"Tush!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, angrily. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. I shall make no defence. She was no longer a confederate in that. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat. He tried to raise an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland. ‘Cover her, men.
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