"Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. But you must tell her. She struggled not to be afraid. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. Lost me place, that’s all. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. She laughed a little contemptuously. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head.
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