The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. But I trusted to that ring of yours. Is it an old ring?” he asked, returning it. "The lash cuts to the bone. On the death of his royal patron, he resolved to return to his own country; and, after various delays, which had postponed it to the present time, he had succeeded in accomplishing his object. “Oh, that. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss.
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