It was a letter. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. She pushed the former and it opened. CHAPTER XXIX. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. The back windows of the houses (where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, furthermore, defended by high walls and deep ditches in those quarters where it appeared most exposed. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. You will not have to wait long for the information. “John. He had hurt her. He was suddenly calm. .
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