" "You terrify me," cried Mrs. . And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. Suddenly she understood. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. He found a coach at the door, with the blinds carefully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking, though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham Mendez, the dwarfish Jew.
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