Do you mind talking to some one else. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs.
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