‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. "The gentleman under the table," she answered. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. " At the door of this tavern, which was situated on the left of the street, not more than a hundred yards distant from the church, the bell of which began to toll as soon as the procession came in sight, the cart drew up, and the whole cavalcade halted. 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. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. Spurlock.
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