But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. "It would avail him little if he did," replied Kneebone. C. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask.
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