“You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Indeed it was apparent, from the likeness between them, that they were nearly related. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind.
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