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But, holy smoke!—the Yale spirit in…. It shall be the bludgeon. " "No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly. " "I hear," said Sir Rowland, moodily. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. Spurlock. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. "Mr.
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