3. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. He looked the boy over with interest. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. And taking the keys, he departed on the errand. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. He died in the war. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me--you seem kind of shy--but I figured maybe I could still talk you into joining our study group, it goes all year. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. "But don't ever let me see them again. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly. Blueskin therefore had nothing to stop him.
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