The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs. "Be it so," replied Jack. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. \" Michelle said dejectedly. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. I’m glad the old sore is assuaged. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack.
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