“I am giving my understudy a chance. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. “Was I not strong enough when you flogged me for leaning over the oubliette? Who tells you these things? The physician, Sebastianus? Am I not sovereign enough to judge what is happening to my own body?\" She demanded. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica.
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