His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. She did not try to approach him. A ball from Wild's pistol passed through his heart, and a volley of musketry poured from the guards lodged several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader. In the next box hangs the rope by which he suffered. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. Wild is sure to be up. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. " "What is it?" asked Thames.
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