Wood. 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. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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