“Did you—did you really think that they would take you for a Frenchman?” she exclaimed. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda.
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