"Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. Confidence in himself would strengthen him.
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