Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. "I will swear it upon the cross!" "His name, then?" demanded the knight. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. “They might do you good,” she remarked. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move.
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