Conceiving the opportunity too favourable to be lost, Jack sprang suddenly over the hedge, and before the man, who was floundering on the ground with one foot in the stirrup, could extricate himself from his embarrassing position, secured his pistols, which he drew from the holsters, and held them to his head. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. “Martin, I don’t know what to say. ” John looked at her sympathetically. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
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