"Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. As soon as Jack gained his legs, he perceived Blueskin lying, as he thought, dead in the plantation, with a severe cut across his temples, and while he was stooping to assist him, he heard groans at a little distance. It creaked slightly.
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