" "That is your fault, none of mine. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. ” Sir John’s head bent lower and lower. "You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers.
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