He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. \" Cathy poured her a glass. "God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. Nothing that I desire to remember," replied Sheppard, sternly. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. There's my thumb upon it.
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