‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime. The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. The door opened. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear.
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