"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. Hilary made a movement as if he would seize the opportunity to disarm the girl, but Gerald stopped him. Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap.
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