” “And the people?” Brendon asked. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. So they fenced with smiles. I did not reckon upon—him. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. They were drenched with water and suds.
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