Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. “It’s—private. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over. He must not in any way call their attention to it. ” “Why on earth—? A man ought to be labelled.
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