He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. See what crime does, Sir. . They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. I don’t see that men need bank it with the women.
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