CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Do you hear me, Sir? Won't you stir!" "Not a step," replied Langley, gruffly. Mr. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. " "I have heard sailors use words like that, but I never knew what they meant.
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