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. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. "I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan. It was open. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced.
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