A crisis of some kind was toward. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. I had a perfect shoal of callers. That was something in his favour. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. I have been sitting with him ever since. “I am lonely.
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