The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Spurlock bent his head to the rail. Be on your guard. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood. " "Heaven help her!" sighed Jack. At length, the body was brought towards him. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. Somehow.
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