"Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. "Let me see him. Strict Catholics, and loyal to the backbone. In another instant, the collision took place. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. For a time Spurlock did not move. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience.
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