‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. "My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention.
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