“With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms. Light the lantern. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. Spurling. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him. The room was dark and dusty. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. " "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. " The course of the carpenter's meditations was here interrupted by a loud note of lamentation from the child, who, disturbed by the transfer, and not receiving the gentle solace to which he was ordinarily accustomed, raised his voice to the utmost, and exerted his feeble strength to escape.
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