Find that boy. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. For the present the desire to fly was gone. No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face.
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