CHAPTER IV The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. "Oh! never mind him: he'll take no harm! Come with me into the parlour. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. Wild is sure to be up. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. “Come on. ” Resigned, she rosined the bow and tightened the loose strings. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War.
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