” He started back as though he had been shot. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. Most of the mob were armed with pikes, staves, swords, muskets, and other weapons, and offered a most desperate resistance to the soldiery, whom they drove back with a shower of paving-stones. Then a roar of hisses. "Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother. And catching hold of Thames, he quitted the deck.
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