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He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. Between comrades it is the most usual thing in the world, and I do not see how your sex intervenes. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good.
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