"Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. "One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you," said Jack. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see. I want to be with you. You complain of a condition, but you leave the correction to someone else. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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