’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. ‘Champion?’ ‘The lad you saw following her. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas.
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