Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. He strangled the infant, which slipped out of his hands and screamed. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty.
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