"What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. Goopes said she believed in nothing else, and with that she glanced at Ann Veronica, rose a little abruptly, and directed Goopes and the shy young man in the handing of refreshments. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. Without an idea where he was going, Jack pursued his way through the fields; and, as he proceeded, the numbness of his limbs in some degree wore off, and his confidence returned. But it would serve.
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