Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. " "Thank'ee,—thank'ee. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose.
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