And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. "How have you managed to communicate with him?" Abraham, who had listened attentively to the foregoing conversation,—not a word of which escaped him,—now drew in his breath, and brought his ear closer to the boards. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Whenever Ah Cum (whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. .
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