CHAPTER II. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. And when I ask you why it is you do so, you have no answer. Kneebone?" "He'd better not," muttered Blueskin. ‘She ought to be. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power.
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