It was not for a week or a month. All the linen was new and stamped with the mark of Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. . He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. ‘Looks like it.
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