It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. The ladder was now within reach. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark. "Yale!" Spurlock's gaze shifted to the dead hills beyond the window; when it returned to the Chinaman there was astonishment instead of interest: as if Ah Cum had been a phantom a moment since and was now actually a human being. Ann Veronica was overcome by this amount of emotion.
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