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She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. " "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. "Do you think we are to be disturbed in this way? Make less noise, hussies, or I'll turn you out of the Lodge. Managers and accountants are always shifting about, so he tells me. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched.

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