“Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. ’ She counted off on her fingers. What more could any reasonable man— especially a watchman—desire? Besides, the Marquis, is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend of mine. His room was last at the end of one winding corner. Only her babe died. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. I—I hurt myself. ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. I don’t know. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little. .
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