His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. .
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