“You are beautiful, Lucy. 1. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. Darrell's eyes were of that clear gray which it is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and modish peruke from his adoptive father, fell in thick glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack's close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet-shape we have noticed, to his head. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned.
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