Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. "By George!" he exclaimed. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week.
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