"He is dying?" whispered Ruth. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. The bridge was protected on either side by a railing with bannisters placed at wide intervals. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is. They then swiftly mounted the stairs, and stopped before the audience-chamber.
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