The first
remark he made was when he was depositing his pistol in its
case--tenderly as you would lay a child in its cradle--"Do you believe
in presentiments _now_, Guy?"
The sullen sun broke out just as they turned to go, and peered curiously
through the boughs, till it found out and lighted on the angular ominous
heap, shrouded with a cloak, that, ten minutes ago, was a strong,
hot-blooded man.
There the _garde_ soon after discovered Horace Levinge; and, when he had
been owned, they buried him in _Pere la Chaise_. Such events were common
then, and the police gave themselves no trouble to trace who had slain
the stranger. Among his tribes-men and kinsfolk in Houndsditch and the
Minories there was great joy at first, and afterward bitter, endless
litigation. They screamed and battled over the heritage like vultures
over a mighty carrion, tearing it at length piecemeal. He did not keep a
pet dog, and so no living creature regretted him, unless it were the
thin, delicate girl, with white cheeks and hollow eyes, who came once,
and knelt to pray by his grave for hours, her tears falling fast.
Hard as they may find it to observe other precepts of the Great Master,
this one, at least, most women have practiced easily and naturally for
eighteen hundred years: "Forgive, until seventy times seven.
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