"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. It has. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. . Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. He said nothing. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. They are horrible. .
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