\" She fibbed. I understand. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. "What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony. ‘Gammon. ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. "Sit down, and enjoy yourself. ‘You are related to General Lord Charvill?’ ‘Monsieur le baron, he is my grandpére,’ she confirmed. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. From the slight sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for the worst.
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