Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. When about to retire to rest, the rencounter with Jack Sheppard again recurred to him, and he half blamed himself for not acquainting Mr. Sheppard uttered a piercing scream. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. You're in luck to-night, widow. You are my prisoner, murderer. But it don't much matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any occurred. The flu attacked my reproductive organs and caused me to expel my 194 female parts.
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