Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. She had underestimated his animal ability to sense weakness. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. And, thrusting a piece of iron into his mouth, he forced him out of the room.
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