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The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. The child was still safe. He had become an extremely handsome man, his hair having darkened and his shoulders having realized their full size. It took a deal of thought to cast a comprehensive cable, for it had to include where Spurlock was, what he was doing, and the fact that O'Higgins's letter of credit would not now carry him and Spurlock to San Francisco. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. She would marry him. "To-morrow night!" said Spurlock, in a wondering whisper.
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