With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. John knew everybody, it seemed. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. Another horseman followed quickly at the heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed missed its footing, and fell.
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