Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. She lifted the sheet and gestured for him to join her. \" She knew he was blushing in the dark. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. I’ll show it to you later.
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