’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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