It was bad luck to go to Canongate. ‘Come, cry a truce. “What a hypocrite you are. " McClintock whistled. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. ” “The truth!” There was a brief but intense silence. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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