Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. " "Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the group, all of whom returned the salutation. " "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. Your uncle—our uncle is with him. Idiote. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. Ireton, you are in league with him. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. Detention was merry for the other detainees.
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