Coventry heard the man actually groan at the intelligence.
"Let yourself down on my window-sill. I can find you rope enough for that."
"What, d'ye take me for a bird, that can light of a gate?"
"But the sill is solid stone, and full a foot wide."
"Say ye so, lad? Then luck is o' my side. Send up rope."
The rope was sent up, and presently was fast to something above and dangled down a little past the window-sill.
"Put out a light on sill," whispered the voice above.
Then there was a long silence, during which Coventry's blood ran cold.
and ran like a hare, her yellow silk dress gleaming in
worse, but his complaint is still weakness. It is not right
interesting to all women—perhaps, more especially to
resigned, to the solitude and isolation of my lot. But
and other comforts. At Caylen, the most southern island,
be found; no more than a flower or a leaf which withered