Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in hand assaulted the thief-taker. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint.
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