That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. “I thank you for your advice,” she said. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. "So, you're admiring my cabinet, Sir Rowland," he remarked, with a sinister smile; "it is generally admired; and, sometimes by parties who afterwards contribute to the collection themselves,—ha! ha! This skull," he added, pointing to a fragment of mortality in the case beside them, "once belonged to Tom Sheppard, the father of the lad I spoke of just now. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. It was from Brendon.
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