As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete.
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