Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. " The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to silence. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct.
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