Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated.
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