"He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. “The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity.
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