"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. ‘You will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. ” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. "Gone," replied the wounded man. " "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply.
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