’ ‘Eh bien, what then?’ Emile sidled closer. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. .
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