Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. On the other a wretched engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the house was not altogether free from some tincture of Jacobitism. " "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
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