It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. That’s how it takes me. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. "If this is the case, where is she?" "In Bedlam," replied the thief-taker, with a Satanic grin. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. I know all about it. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. Both of them.
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