Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. "I cannot remain here long. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards.
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