We already had a place to mislay blame. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. E. I cannot explain beyond that. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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