” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed.
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