Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. And, though the villain can't see his orders executed, I've no doubt some one else will.
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