She felt terrible lying to him. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. But, when he got to the door with this intention, he became ashamed of his fears; and feeling convinced that Jack —bad as he might be—was not capable of such atrocious conduct as to plunder his benefactor twice, he contented himself with looking to the priming of his pistols, and placing them near him, to be ready in case of need, he threw himself on the bed and speedily fell asleep. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. " "No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly.
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