She saw his lips yell, “Stop. . "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. "Ah! Terry O'Flaherty!" he cried, shouting after the Irishman, who took to his heels as soon as he found his murderous attempt unsuccessful; "you may run, but you'll not get out of my reach. But it don't much matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any occurred. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. “You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the backbone.
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