The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. Sheppard, horror-stricken. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you.
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