But it is the truth. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. Spurling was standing near the fire superintending some culinary preparation; but she no sooner perceived him, than hastily quitting her occupation, she elbowed a way for him and the knight through the crowd, and ushered them, with much ceremony, into an inner room, where they found the objects of their search, Quilt Arnold and Rykhart Van Galgebrok, seated at a small table, quietly smoking.
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