CHAPTER XXIII. " "You were so," replied Mrs Sheppard; "and for that wicked deed you will one day be brought to the gallows yourself. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of it. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. She was watching him intently. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. Some have no males. I will go with you. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing. "The part was crooked," she explained. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed.
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