CHAPTER ELEVENGretna felt faint.
The blanket that covered her was thick and suffocating. She felt it grow increasingly difficult to breathe and, what was more, her hands were pinioned and she could only move them a little with great effort.
She ceased to struggle and lay in the corner of the coach fighting against the feeling of suffocation and nausea that came partly from the smell of the blanket and partly from a fear such as she had never experienced in the whole of her life.
After a while one of the men spoke,
“The fancy mort ain’t much of a gabster, Joe,” he remarked. “Do you think she’s dead mutton?”
“Mebbe you gave ’er too much of a lick,” was the reply.
“Me!” The man’s voice rose a little. “I’ve told you afore, I don’t mind ’andlin’ some cove, but it’s not my fancy to muck ab
