Not a word passed between them. O'Higgins did not confide in me. The storm burst upon them in its fury. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. You'll be answerable for his escape. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak.
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