” “I wasn’t jesting,” said Capes, abruptly. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. Presently he heard her voice. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. ” He shook his head. Wood, disdainfully.
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