Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. " "It is a diamond," said the lady, in an agony of distress,—"the child!" "A diamond! Here, take the kid," cried Blueskin, slipping the infant adroitly under her scarf. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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