" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. . There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. \" He had caught her in a moment of weakness; the hunger had made her emotional! She felt a terrible warmth surge from her loins. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head.
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