Come, mon ami, come!’ Ever faithful, Kimble dragged himself into a sitting position, gasping at the pain this caused him. The Times slipped from his fingers. " The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. "No matter," replied Sheppard. He seemed to be. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. Go away now, there’s a good lad.
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