There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. I suspect he has a bit of vanity. Girls screamed in chorus. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back. 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.
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