Produced by Clare Graham & Laura McDonald(https://www.girlebooks.com), Marc D'Hooghe(https://www.freeliterature.org)
THE BLACK MOTH
A ROMANCE OF THE XVIII CENTURY
BY
GEORGETTE HEYER
Contents
PROLOGUE CHAPTER XVI CHAPTER I CHAPTER XVII CHAPTER II CHAPTER XVIII CHAPTER III CHAPTER XIX CHAPTER IV CHAPTER XX CHAPTER V CHAPTER XXI CHAPTER VI CHAPTER XXII CHAPTER VII CHAPTER XXIII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER XXIV CHAPTER IX CHAPTER XXV CHAPTER X CHAPTER XXVI CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XXVII CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XXVIII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XXIX CHAPTER XIV EPILOGUE CHAPTER XV
PROLOGUE
Clad in his customary black and silver, with raven hair unpowdered andelaborately dressed, diamonds on his fingers and in his cravat, HughTracy Clare Belmanoir, Duke of Andover, sat at the escritoire in thelibrary of his town house, writing.
He wore no rouge on his face, the almost unnatural pallor of whichseemed designedly enhanced by a patch set beneath his right eye. Browsand lashes were black, the former slanting slightly up at the corners,but his narrow, heavy-lidded eyes were green and strangely piercing. Thethin lips curled a little, sneering, as one dead-white hand travelled toand fro across the paper.
... but it seems that the Fair Lady has a Brother, who, finding MeEnamoured, threw down the Gauntlet. I soundly whipt the presumptuousChild, and so the Affair ends. Now, as you, My dear Frank, also tooksome Interest in the Lady, I write for the Express Purpose of informingYou that at my Hands she has received no Hurt, nor is not like to. ThisI in part tell You that You shall not imagine Yr self in Honor boundagain to call Me out, which Purpose, an I mistake not, I yesterday readin Yr Eyes. I should be Exceeding loth to meet You in a Second Time,when I should consider it my Duty to teach You an even severer Lessonthan Before. This I am not Wishful of doing for the Liking I bear You.
"So in all Friendship believe me, Frank,
"Your most Obedient, Humble
"DEVIL."
His Grace of Andover paused, pen held in mid-air. A mocking smile dawnedin his eyes, and he wrote again.
"In the event of any Desire on Yr Part to hazard Yr Luck with my lateParamour, Permit Me to warn You 'gainst the Bantam Brother, who is inVery Truth a Fire-Eater, and would wish to make of You, as of Me, oneMouthfull. I shall hope to see You at the Queensberry Rout on Thursday,when You may Once More strive to direct mine Erring Footsteps on to theThorny Path of Virtue."
His Grace read the postscript through with another satisfied, sardonicsmile. Then he folded the letter, and affixing a wafer, peremptorilystruck the hand-bell at his side.
And the Honourable Frank Fortescue, reading the postscript half-an-hourlater, smiled too, but differently. Also he sighed and put the letterinto the fire.
"And so ends another _affaire_. ... I wonder if you'll go insolently tothe very end?" he said softly, watching the paper shrivel and flare up."I would to God you might fall honestly in love--and that the lady mightsave you from yourself--my poor Devil!"
CHAPTER I
AT THE CHEQUERS INN, FALLOWFIELD
Chadber was the name of the host, florid of countenance, portly ofperson, and of manner pompous and urbane. Solely within the walls of theChequers lay his world, that inn having been acquired by hisgreat-grandfather as far back as the year 1667, when the jovial StuartKing sat on the English throne, and the Hanoverian Electors were not yetdreamed of.
A Tory was Mr. Chadber to the backbone. None so bitter 'gainst thelittle German as he, and surely none had looked forward more eagerly tothe advent of the gallant Charles Edward. If he confined his patriotismto drinking success to Prince Charlie's campaign, who shall blame him?And if, when sundry Whig gentlemen halted at the Chequers on their wayto the coast, and, calling for a bottle of Rhenish, bade him toss down aglass himself with a health to his Majesty, again who shall blame Mr.Chadber for obeying? What was a health one way or another when you hadrendered active service to two of his Stuart Highness's adherents?
It was Mr. Chadber's boast, uttered only to his admiring Toryneighbours, that he had, at the risk of his own life, given shelter totwo fugitives of the disastrous 'Forty-five, who had come so far out oftheir way as quiet Fallowfield. That no one had set eyes on either ofthe men was no reason for doubting an honest landlord's word. But no onewould have thought of doubting any statement that Mr. Chadber mightmake. Mine host of the Chequers was a great personage in the town, beingable both to read and to write, and having once, when young, travelledas far north as London town, staying there for ten days and settingeyes on no less a person than the great Duke of Marlborough himself whenthat gentleman was riding along the Strand on his way to St. James's.
Also, it was a not-to-be-ignored fact that Mr. Chadber's home-brewed alewas far superior to that sold by the landlord of the rival inn at theother end of the village.
Altogether he was a most important character, and no one was more awareof his importance than his worthy self.
To "gentlemen born," whom, he protested, he could distinguish at aglance, he was almost obsequiously polite, but on clerks and underlings,and men who bore no signs of affluence about their persons, he wastednone of his deference.
Thus it was that, when a little green-clad lawyer alighted one day fromthe mail coach and entered the coffee-room at the Chequers, he wasreceived with pomposity and scarce-veiled condescension.
He was nervous, it seemed, and more than a little worried. He offendedMr. Chadber at the outset, when he insinuated that he was come to meet agentleman who might perhaps be rather shabbily clothed, rather short ofpurse, and even of rather unsavoury repute. Very severely did Mr.Chadber give him to understand that guests of that description wereentirely unknown at the Chequers.
There was an air of mystery about the lawyer, and it appeared almost asthough he were striving to probe mine host. Mr. Chadber bridled, alittle, and became aloof and haughty.
When the lawyer dared openly to ask if he had had any dealings withhighwaymen of late, he was properly and thoroughly affronted.
The lawyer became suddenly more at ease. He eyed Mr. Chadberspeculatively, holding a pinch of snuff to one thin nostril.
"Perhaps you have staying here a certain--ah--Sir--Anthony--Ferndale?"he hazarded.
The gentle air of injury fell from Mr. Chadber. Certainly he had, andcome only yesterday a-purpose to meet his solicitor.
The lawyer nodded.
"I am he. Be so good as to apprise Sir Anthony of my arrival."
Mr. Chadber bowed exceeding low, and implored the lawyer not to remainin the draughty coffee-room. Sir Anthony would never forgive him an heallowed his solicitor to await him there. Would he not come to SirAnthony's private parlour?
The very faintest of smiles creased the lawyer's thin face as he walkedalong the passage in Mr. Chadber's wake.
He was ushered into a low-ceilinged, pleasant chamber looking out on tothe quiet street, and left alone what time Mr. Chadber went in search ofSir Anthony.
The room was panelled and ceilinged in oak, with blue curtains to thewindows and blue cushions on the high-backed settle by the fire. A tablestood in the centre of the floor, with a white table-cloth thereon andplaces laid for two. Another smaller table stood by the fireplace,together with a chair and a stool.
The lawyer took silent stock of his surroundings, and reflected grimlyon the landlord's sudden change of front. It would appear that SirAnthony was a gentleman of some standing at the Chequers.
Yet the little man was plainly unhappy, and fell to pacing to and fro,his chin sunk low on his breast, and h
is hands clasped behind his back.He was come to seek the disgraced son of an Earl, and he was afraid ofwhat he might find.
Six years ago Lord John Carstares, eldest son of the Earl of Wyncham,had gone with his brother, the Hon. Richard, to a card party, and hadreturned a dishonoured man.
That Jack Carstares should cheat was incredible, ridiculous, and atfirst no one had believed the tale that so quickly spread. But he hadconfirmed that tale himself, defiantly and without shame, before ridingoff, bound, men said, for France and the foreign parts. Brother Richardwas left, so said the countryside, to marry the lady they were both inlove with. Nothing further had been heard of Lord John, and the outragedEarl forbade his name to be mentioned at Wyncham, swearing to disinheritthe prodigal. Richard espoused the fair Lady Lavinia and brought her tolive at the great house, strangely forlorn now without Lord John'smagnetic presence; but, far from being an elated bridegroom, he seemedto have brought gloom with him from the honeymoon, so silent and sounhappy was he.
Six years drifted slowly by without bringing any news of Lord John, andthen, two months ago, journeying from London to Wyncham, Richard's coachhad been waylaid, and by a highwayman who proved to be none other thanthe scapegrace peer.
Richard's feelings may be imagined. Lord John had been singularlyunimpressed by anything beyond the humour of the situation. That,however, had struck him most forcibly, and he had burst out into a fitof laughter that had brought a lump into Richard's throat, and a freshache into his heart.
Upon pressure John had given his brother the address of the inn, "incase of accidents," and told him to ask for "Sir Anthony Ferndale" ifever he should need him. Then with one hearty handshake, he had gallopedoff into the darkness....
The lawyer stopped his restless pacing to listen. Down the passage wascoming the tap-tap of high heels on the wooden floor, accompanied by aslight rustle as of stiff silks.
The little man tugged suddenly at his cravat. Supposing--supposingdebonair Lord John was no longer debonair? Supposing--he dared notsuppose anything. Nervously he drew a roll of parchment from his pocketand stood fingering it.
A firm hand was laid on the door-handle, turning it cleanly round. Thedoor opened to admit a veritable apparition, and was closed again with asnap.
The lawyer found himself gazing at a slight, rather tall gentleman whoswept him a profound bow, gracefully flourishing his smartthree-cornered hat with one hand and delicately clasping cane andperfumed handkerchief with the other. He was dressed in the height ofthe Versailles fashion, with full-skirted coat of palest lilac lacedwith silver, small-clothes and stockings of white, and waistcoat offlowered satin. On his feet he wore shoes with high red heels and silverbuckles, while a wig of the latest mode, marvellously powdered andcurled and smacking greatly of Paris, adorned his shapely head. In thefoaming lace of his cravat reposed a diamond pin, and on the slim hand,half covered by drooping laces, glowed and flashed a huge emerald.
The lawyer stared and stared again, and it was not until a pair of deepblue, rather wistful eyes met his in a quizzical glance, that he foundhis tongue. Then a look of astonishment came into his face, and he tooka half step forward.
"Master Jack!" he gasped. "Master--_Jack_!"
The elegant gentleman came forward and held up a reproving hand. Thepatch at the corner of his mouth quivered, and the blue eyes danced.
"I perceive that you are not acquainted with me, Mr. Warburton," hesaid, amusement in his pleasant, slightly drawling voice. "Allow me topresent myself: Sir Anthony Ferndale, _a vous servir_!"
A gleam of humour appeared in the lawyer's own eyes as he clasped theoutstretched hand.
"I think you are perhaps not acquainted with yourself, my lord," heremarked drily.
Lord John laid his hat and cane on the small table, and looked faintlyintrigued.
"What's your meaning, Mr. Warburton?"
"I am come, my lord, to inform you that the Earl, your father, died amonth since."
The blue eyes widened, grew of a sudden hard, and narrowed again.
"Is that really so? Well, well! Apoplexy, I make no doubt?"
The lawyer's lips twitched uncontrollably.
"No, Master Jack; my lord died of heart failure."
"Say you so? Dear me! But will you not be seated, sir? In a moment myservant will have induced the _chef_ to serve dinner. You will honourme, I trust?"
The lawyer murmured his thanks and sat down on the settle, watching theother with puzzled eyes.
The Earl drew up a chair for himself and stretched his foot to the fire.
"Six years, eh? I protest 'tis prodigious good to see your face again,Mr. Warburton.... And I'm the Earl? Earl and High Toby, by Gad!" Helaughed softly.
"I have here the documents, my lord...."
Carstares eyed the roll through his quizzing glass.
"I perceive them. Pray return them to your pocket, Mr. Warburton."
"But there are certain legal formalities, my lord--"
"Exactly. Pray do not let us mention them!"
"But, sir!"
Then the Earl smiled, and his smile was singularly sweet and winning.
"At least, not until after dinner, Warburton! Instead, you shall tell mehow you found me?"
"Mr. Richard directed me where to come, sir."
"Ah, of course! I had forgot that I told him my--_pied-a-terre_ when Iwaylaid him."
The lawyer nearly shuddered at this cheerful, barefaced mention of hislordship's disreputable profession.
"Er--indeed, sir. Mr. Richard is eager for you to return."
The handsome young face clouded over. My lord shook his head.
"Impossible, my dear Warburton. I am convinced Dick never voiced sofoolish a suggestion. Come now, confess! 'tis your own fabrication?"
Warburton ignored the bantering tone and spoke very deliberately.
"At all events, my lord, I believe him anxious to make--amends."
Carstares shot an alert, suspicious glance at him.
"Ah!"
"Yes, sir. Amends."
My lord studied his emerald with half-closed eyelids.
"But why--amends, Warburton?" he asked.
"Is not that the word, sir?"
"I confess it strikes me as inapt. Doubtless I am dull ofcomprehension."
"You were not wont to be, my lord."
"No? But six years changes a man, Warburton. Pray, is Mr. Carstareswell?"
"I believe so, sir," replied the lawyer, frowning at the deft change ofsubject.
"And Lady Lavinia?"
"Ay." Mr. Warburton looked searchingly across at him, seeing which, mylord's eyes danced afresh, brim full with mischief.
"I am delighted to hear it. Pray present my compliments to Mr. Carstaresand beg him to use Wyncham as he wills."
"Sir! Master Jack! I implore you!" burst from the lawyer, and he sprangup, moving excitedly away, his hands twitching, his face haggard.
My lord stiffened in his chair. He watched the other's jerky movementsanxiously, but his voice when he spoke was even and cold.
"Well, sir?"
Mr. Warburton wheeled and came back to the fireplace, looking hungrilydown at my lord's impassive countenance. With an effort he seemed tocontrol himself.
"Master Jack, I had better tell you what you have already guessed. Iknow."
Up went one haughty eyebrow.
"You know what, Mr. Warburton?"
"That you are innocent!"
"Of what, Mr. Warburton?"
"Of cheating at cards, sir!"
My lord relaxed, and flicked a speck of dust from his great cuff.
"I regret the necessity of having to disillusion you, Mr. Warburton."
"My lord, do not fence with me, I beg! You can trust me, surely?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Then do not keep up this pretence with me; no, nor look so hardneither! I've watched you grow up right from the cradle, and Master Dicktoo, and I know you both through and through. I _know_ you never cheatedat Colonel Dare's nor anyw
here else! I could have sworn it at thetime--ay, when I saw Master Dick's face, I knew at once that he it waswho had played foul, and you had but taken the blame!"
"No!"
"I know better! Can you, Master Jack, look me in the face and truthfullydeny what I have said? Can you? Can you?" My lord sat silent.
With a sigh, Warburton sank on to the settle once more. He was flushed,and his eyes shone, but he spoke calmly again.
"Of course you cannot. I have never known you lie. You need not fear Ishall betray you. I kept silence all these years for my lord's sake, andI will not speak now until you give me leave."
"Which I never shall."
"Master Jack, think better of it, I beg of you! Now that my lord isdead--"
"It makes no difference."
"No difference? 'Twas not for his sake? 'Twas not because you knew howhe loved Master Dick?"
"No."
"Then 'tis Lady Lavinia--"
"No."
"But--"
My lord smiled sadly.
"Ah, Warburton! And you averred you knew us through and through! Forwhose sake should it be but his own?"
"I feared it!" The lawyer made a hopeless gesture with his hands. "Youwill not come back?"
"No, Warburton, I will not; Dick may manage my estates. I remain on theroad."
Warburton made one last effort.
"My lord!" he cried despairingly, "Will you not at least think of thedisgrace to the name an you be caught?"
The shadows vanished from my lord's eyes.
"Mr. Warburton, I protest you are of a morbid turn of mind! Do you know,I had not thought of so unpleasant a contingency? I swear I was not bornto be hanged!"
The lawyer would have said more, had not the entrance of a servant,carrying a loaded tray, put an end to all private conversation. The manplaced dishes upon the table, lighted candles, and arranged two chairs.
"Dinner is served, sir," he said.
My lord nodded, and made a slight gesture toward the windows. Instantlythe man went over to them and drew the heavy curtains across.
My lord turned to Mr. Warburton.
"What say you, sir? Shall it be burgundy or claret, or do you prefersack?"
Warburton decided in favour of claret.
"Claret, Jim," ordered Carstares, and rose to his feet.
"I trust the drive has whetted your appetite, Warburton, for honestChadber will be monstrous hurt an you do not justice to his capons."
"I shall endeavour to spare his feelings," replied the lawyer with atwinkle, and seated himself at the table.
Whatever might be Mr. Chadber's failings, he possessed an excellentcook. Mr. Warburton dined very well, beginning on a fat duck, andcontinuing through the many courses that constituted the meal.
When the table was cleared, the servant gone, and the port before them,he endeavoured to guide the conversation back into the previouschannels. But he reckoned without my lord, and presently found himselfdiscussing the Pretender's late rebellion. He sat up suddenly.
"There were rumours that you were with the Prince, sir."
Carstares set down his glass in genuine amazement.
"I?"
"Indeed, yes. I do not know whence the rumour came, but it reachedWyncham. My lord said nought, but I think Mr. Richard hardly creditedit."
"I should hope not! Why should they think me turned rebel, pray?"
Mr. Warburton frowned.
"Rebel, sir?"
"Rebel, Mr. Warburton. I have served under his Majesty."
"The Carstares were ever Tories, Master Jack, true to their rightfulking."
"My dear Warburton, I owe nought to the Stuart princes. I was born inKing George the First's reign, and I protest I am a good Whig."
Warburton shook his head disapprovingly.
"There has never been a Whig in the Wyncham family, sir."
"And you hope there never will be again, eh? What of Dick? Is hefaithful to the Pretender?"
"I think Mr. Richard does not interest himself in politics, sir."
Carstares raised his eyebrows, and there fell a silence.
After a minute or two Mr. Warburton cleared his throat.
"I--I suppose, sir--you have no idea of--er--discontinuingyour--er--profession?"
My lord gave an irrepressible little laugh.
"Faith, Mr. Warburton, I've only just begun!"
"Only--But a year ago, Mr. Richard--"
"I held him up? Ay, but to tell the truth, sir, I've not done much sincethen!"
"Then, sir, you are not--er--notorious?"
"Good gad, no! Notorious, forsooth! Confess, Warburton, you thought mesome heroic figure? 'Gentleman Harry', perhaps?"
Warburton blushed.
"Well, sir--I--er--wondered."
"I shall have to disappoint you, I perceive. I doubt Bow Street hasnever heard of me--and--to tell the truth--'tis not an occupation whichappeals vastly to my senses."
"Then why, my lord, do you continue?"
"I must have some excuse for roaming the country," pleaded Jack. "Icould not be idle."
"You are not--compelled to--er--rob, my lord?"
Carstares wrinkled his brow inquiringly.
"Compelled? Ah--I take your meaning. No, Warburton, I have enough for mywants--now; time was--but that is past. I rob for amusement's sake."
Warburton looked steadily across at him.
"I am surprised, my lord, that you, a Carstares, should findit--amusing."
John was silent for a moment, and when he at length spoke it wasdefiantly and with a bitterness most unusual in him.
"The world, Mr. Warburton, has not treated me so kindly that I shouldfeel any qualms of conscience. But, an it gives you any satisfaction toknow it, I will tell you that my robberies are few and far between. Youspoke a little while ago of my probable--ah--fate--on Tyburn Tree. Ithink you need not fear to hear of that."
"I--It gives me great satisfaction, my lord, I confess," stammered thelawyer, and found nothing more to say. After a long pause he againproduced the bulky roll of parchment and laid it down before the Earlwith the apologetic murmur of:
"Business, my lord!"
Carstares descended from the clouds and eyed the packet with evidentdistaste. He proceeded to fill his and his companion's glass veryleisurely. That done, he heaved a lugubrious sigh, caught Mr.Warburton's eye, laughed in answer to its quizzical gleam, and broke theseal.
"Since you _will_ have it, sir--business!"
* * * * *
Mr. Warburton stayed the night at the Chequers and travelled back toWyncham next day by the two o'clock coach. He played piquet and ecartewith my lord all the evening, and then retired to bed, not having foundan opportunity to argue his mission as he had hoped to do. Whenever hehad tried to turn the conversation that way he had been gently butfirmly led into safer channels, and somehow had found it impossible toget back. My lord was the gayest and most charming of companions, buttalk "business" he would not. He regaled the lawyer with spicy anecdotesand tales of abroad, but never once allowed Mr. Warburton to speak ofhis home or of his brother.
The lawyer retired to rest in a measure reassured by the other's goodspirits, but at the same time dispirited by his failure to induceCarstares to return to Wyncham.
Next morning, although he was not up until twelve, he was before mylord, who only appeared in time for lunch, which was served as before inthe oak parlour.
He entered the room in his usual leisurely yet decided fashion and madeMr. Warburton a marvellous leg. Then he bore him off to inspect hismare, Jenny, of whom he was inordinately proud. By the time theyreturned to the parlour luncheon was served, and Mr. Warburton realisedthat he had scarcely any time left in which to plead his cause.
My lord's servant hovered continually about the room, waiting on them,until his master bade him go to attend to the lawyer's valise. When thedoor had closed on his retreating form, Carstares leaned back in hischair, and, with a rather dreary little smile, turned to
his companion.
"You want to reason with me, I know, Mr. Warburton, and, indeed, I willlisten an I must. But I would so much rather that you left the subjectalone, believe me."
Warburton sensed the finality in his voice, and wisely threw away hislast chance.
"I understand 'tis painful, my lord, and I will say no more. Onlyremember--and think on it, I beg!"
The concern in his face touched my lord.
"You are too good to me, Mr. Warburton, I vow. I can only say that Iappreciate your kindness--and your forbearance. And I trust that youwill forgive my seeming churlishness and believe that I am indeedgrateful to you."
"I wish I might do more for you, Master Jack!" stammered Warburton, mademiserable by the wistful note in his favourite's voice. There was notime for more; the coach already awaited him, and his valise had beenhoisted up. As they stood together in the porch, he could only grip mylord's hand tightly and say good-bye. Then he got hurriedly into thecoach, and the door was slammed behind him.
My lord made his leg, and watched the heavy vehicle move forward androll away down the street. Then with a stifled sigh he turned and walkedtowards the stables. His servant saw him coming and went at once to meethim.
"The mare, sir?"
"As you say, Jim--the mare. In an hour."
He turned and would have strolled back.
"Sir--your honour!"
He paused, looking over his shoulder.
"Well?"
"They're on the look-out, sir. Best be careful."
"They always are, Jim. But thanks."
"Ye--ye wouldn't take me with ye, sir?" pleadingly.
"Take you? Faith, no! I've no mind to lead you into danger. And youserve me best by remaining to carry out my orders."
The man fell back.
"Ay, sir; but--but--"
"There are none, Jim."
"No, sir--but ye _will_ have a care?"
"I will be the most cautious of men." He walked away on the word, andpassed into the house.
In an hour he was a very different being. Gone was the emerald ring, thefoppish cane; the languid air, too, had disappeared, leaving him briskand businesslike. He was dressed for riding, with buff coat and buckskinbreeches, and shining top boots. A sober brown wig replaced the powderedcreation, and a black tricorne was set rakishly atop.
He stood in the deserted porch, watching Jim strap his baggage to thesaddle, occasionally giving a curt direction. Presently Mr. Chadberappeared with the stirrup-cup, which he drained and handed back with aword of thanks and a guinea at the bottom.
Someone called lustily from within, and the landlord, bowing very low,murmured apologies and vanished.
Jim cast a last glance at the saddle-girths, and, leaving the marequietly standing in the road, came up to his master with gloves andwhip.
Carstares took them silently and fell to tapping his boot, his eyesthoughtfully on the man's face.
"You will hire a coach, as usual," he said at length, "and take mybaggage to--" (He paused, frowning)--"Lewes. You will engage a room atthe White Hart and order dinner. I shall wear--apricot and--h'm!"
"Blue, sir?" ventured Jim, with an idea of being helpful.
His master's eyes crinkled at the corners.
"You are a humorist, Salter. Apricot and cream. Cream? Yes, 'tis apleasing thought--cream. That is all--Jenny!"
The mare turned her head, whinnying as he came towards her.
"Good lass!" He mounted lightly and patted her glossy neck. Then heleaned sideways in the saddle to speak again to Salter, who stood besidehim, one hand on the bridle.
"The cloak?"
"Behind you, sir."
"My wig?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pistols?"
"Ready primed, sir."
"Good. I shall be in Lewes in time for dinner--with luck."
"Yes, sir. Ye--ye will have a care?" anxiously.
"Have I not told you?" He straightened in the saddle, touched the marewith his heel, and bestowing a quick smile and a nod on his man, trottedeasily away.
The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century Page 1