No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. Fiercely defensive, as usual. . "Enough," said the widow, gratefully. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. I can’t afford to get behind. “Why not?” He asked. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. As to Mrs. " "As an honest Chinaman?"—taking out the offensiveness of the query by smiling.
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