” “I met you accidentally,” he reminded her. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly altered tone, “I hope, I trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one here?” “I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night.
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