Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. " "As you please, Sir," replied the tapstress, coolly. Her mind left her. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. With this person—who was no other than Mr. “Thanks, Cathy. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa.
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