A creeping numbness invaded her. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. Blueskin answered by dashing his head violently against the flagged floor. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. "Not entirely," replied Jonathan, calmly; "though I shouldn't be ashamed of it if it were.
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