’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. “I say!” he cried. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears—oh!" "If that's the case," observed Wood, "I'm surprised you should like to have such a frightful picture constantly in view as that over the chimney-piece. Capes. . I cannot protect you.
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