Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. ” “You! Why, you have been an angel to her,” he exclaimed impatiently. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. I feel that I shall stifle unless I can do something—and do something soon. .
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