‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. For two years he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watchfulness over Aliva. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me. "I have some difficulty in preventing myself from becoming your executioner. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them.
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