I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head. In vain Wood protested his innocence. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house.
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