"Flight is still left me," replied Trenchard. Well, I don’t think that’s fair. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. Listen, it is I. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. He ate of the bread with great appetite, and having drunk as much as he chose of the water, poured the rest on the floor. I'll dispose of the brat. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. Suddenly she had become afraid.
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