"Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. ” He said. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered—ough! ough!—how this cough chokes me!" Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty, managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike of a halbert, which was lying, apart from the pole, upon a bench near him. No one had the resources or the inclination to rebuild them. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. CHAPTER XII.
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