’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. With thinly veiled glee, Michelle described a rumor she had heard about John at a recent party. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. Meantime, the lady had overtaken them; but, terrified by the menaces of her vindictive kinsmen, she did not dare to reveal herself to her husband, of whose concealment on the roof of the very house the party were searching she was aware. Wood, in equal trepidation. He had not had time to aim the pistol. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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