"He would return my letters unopened or destroy them. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. They will say that it was murder. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac.
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