" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. "Hope to. ’ ‘Do not make a game with me,’ she interrupted, gripping her underlip firmly between her teeth to stop the threatening laughter. \" Lucy replied. I've seen him often do it. ” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair.
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