"Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. I worship you. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. "Well?" he whispered. They all stay!” “And you yourself?” Brendon laughed. I can be that man, the one I know you want.
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