” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. Half French. I’m a soldier, you see. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender.
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