This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. 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. What is the matter with you?” Dunster had withdrawn discreetly. A day will come when you will thank me. The streets were full of colour.
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