Page:Joan, the curate.djvu/249

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A Traitress.
243

believe the hands of justice will need no more aid than they have got!"

Then Ann, without any appearance of ill-feeling, laughed softly.

"Maybe the hands of justice are less powerful than you think, sir," said she. "But, at any rate, I hope you will think kindly of the woman who, for your sake, was ready to risk her safety, nay, her life maybe, to help you!"

As she spoke, in a tone of inexpressible tenderness, she came very near to the young lieutenant, and gazed into his face with a look so melting, so passionate, that he was stirred, fascinated, in a very high degree. It was impossible to be cold to her, however great his innermost disapproval of her might be. He had bent his head to reply, when a footstep on the gravel behind the yew-hedge, followed by a loud outburst of laughter, caused him to start, and to look round.

Peering at the pair through a gap in the hedge he saw the face of young Bertram Waldron, flushed with wine, twisted into malevolent contortions of coarse amusement.

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the young cub, "here's sport, egad! I'll wager she gives you