She covered herself with her arms. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you.
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