I won't have a beachcomber on the island. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. " As he spoke, several shots were fired from the upper part of the house, and two men fell mortally wounded. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside.
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