"Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. The theme was a masquerade. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming.
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