‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. The comments on the makeover lessened but were replaced by long admiring glances by boys who had never before given her the time of day. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. All the precious paintings and statues of the divine family were here, as was the enormous wooden crucifix set above the altar. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. "But they will find the evidences of slaughter in the other room,—the table upset,—the bloody cloth,— the dead man's sword,—the money,—and my memorandum, which I forgot to remove.
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