A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. "To be sure," returned Wild; "he's not only alive, but likely for life, if we don't clip the thread. " "You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned.
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