"Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. Here is one verse. Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. ’ Gerald raised his brows. This girl was strong and vital: how would she take it when she learned that she had cast her lot with a fugitive from justice? For McClintock was certain that Spurlock was a hunted man. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely.
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