'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. . ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. ‘Pitiful. ***** From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness held a stout leash on his secret. He filled his pipe slowly. Wild in his own domain. Better they should find the so-called Valade. See paragraph 1.
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