"I have," replied Wild; "and nothing but the evidence of my senses would have made me believe he was living, after the positive assurance I received to the contrary. With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar.
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