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He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. ’ His friend held it out of the way. What female entered the house with us?" "Blood and thunder!" exclaimed Blueskin, afraid, if he admitted having seen the lady, of being compelled to divide the plunder he had obtained from her among his companions, "how should I know? D'ye suppose I'm always thinking of the petticoats? I observed no female; but if any one did join the assault, it must have been either Amazonian Kate, or Fighting Moll. The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience.
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