"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. Martha had been more to her than that. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. Had he been trying to get her attention before that day, or did he simply want his silly pencil returned? \"I'm John. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast.
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