"Where are the packets committed to your charge by Sir Rowland Trenchard?" "The packets!" exclaimed Kneebone, in alarm. That was supposed to be Madame Valade. ” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. " "Zounds!" cried Marvel, "I—" "Hush!" whispered the tapstress, "or I retract my promise. Think better of it. Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. Which are you—Valade or Charvill? Or, no, let me guess.
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