She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. “This is the slavery of the veiled life. Her gratitude swelled within her. A fortnight passed, then a month. Sebastian was physically beautiful, she reflected. Why did he imagine she was making this journey to England? She feigned interest. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. " "Nonsense!" "Something's wrong. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough.
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