A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. Louis the Fourteenth yet lived, and expectations were, therefore, indulged of assistance from France. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. She kept pausing in her work and regarding it, and when Capes came round to her, she first put her hand in her lap and then rather awkwardly in front of him. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open.
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