Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Killed is too kind a word. There was no response. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. ’ ‘Gad, there is someone there,’ exclaimed Hilary beside him, shading his eyes with one hand.
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