I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. But, this sad affair disposed of, I will not rest till I have avenged my murdered parents. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth a thousand pounds. B. She was too late.
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