Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. " He laughed and pushed back his chair. 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. "Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not.
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