Gerald lost his head. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. They embarked upon an open and declared friendship. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned. Wild was formerly an agent to the Jacobite party, but, on the offer of a bribe from the opposite faction, he unhesitatingly deserted and betrayed his old employers. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me.
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