"See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed. "I carried them off on the fatal night when we got into Wild's house, and you were struck down," replied Blueskin. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember. " "Would you like to have me come in and talk?" How tender that sounded!—talk! "If you want to. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. She opened and read it at once. I'll put them in your room; then we'll have a look-see. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes.
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