lesh was already healing fast.

"Too near, Adam, but thank God it was no nearer. A little lower and I
might have looked for you in vain."

"This heart of mine is a tough organ, bullet-proof, I dare say, though I
wear no breastplate."

"But this!" Involuntarily Moor's eye asked the question his lips did not
utter as he touched a worn and faded case hanging on the broad breast
before him. Silently Warwick opened it, showing not Sylvia's face but
that of an old woman, rudely drawn in sepia; the brown tints bringing
out the marked features as no softer hue could have done, and giving to
each line a depth of expression that made the serious countenance
singularly lifelike and attractive.

Now Moor saw where Warwick got both keen eyes and tender mouth, as well
as all the gentler traits that softened his strong character; and felt
that no other woman ever had or ever would hold so dear a place as the
old mother whose likeness he had drawn and hung where other men wear
images of mistress or of wife. With a glance as full of penitence as the
other had been of disquiet, Moor laid back the little case, drew bandage
and blouse over both wound and picture, and linked his arm in Warwick's
as he asked--

"Who shot you?"

"How can I tell? I knew nothing of it till that flock of women fell to
kissing these dirty hands of mine; then I was conscious of a stinging
pain in my shoulder, and a warm stream trickling down my side. I looked
to see what was amiss, whereat the good souls set up a shriek, took
possession of me, and for half an hour wept and wailed over me in a
frenzy of emotion and good-will that kept me merry in spite of the
surgeon's probes and the priest's prayers. The appellations showered
upon me would have startled even your ears, accustomed to soft words.
Were you ever called 'core of my heart,' 'sun of my soul,' or 'cup of
gold'?"

"Cannonading suits your spirits excellently; I remember your telling me
that you had tried and liked it. But there is to be no more of it, I
have other plans for you. Before I mention them tell me of the interview
with Garibaldi."

"That now is a thing to ask one about; a thing to talk of and take
pride in all one's days. I was half asleep and thought myself dreaming
till he spoke. A right noble face, Geoffrey--full of thought and power;
the look of one born to command others because master of himself. A
square strong frame; no decorations, no parade; dressed like his men,
yet as much