8. Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills.
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