This time you cannot. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. "My janizaries are within call," returned Wild. Least of all myself. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave.
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