She ignored it until it repeated itself. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. It is a precaution merely. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. So far as I'm concerned, nothing could please me more. For a long time neither spoke again. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. Master, your humble servant.
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