” His arms were around her. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. And Mrs.
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