Sir Rowland witnessed these proceedings like one stupified. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. E. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard.
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