At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. CHAPTER XVII. The Ragged Edge. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. "It's the skull of a rebel," said Jonathan, with marked emphasis on the word, "blown by the wind from a spike on the bridge above us. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. Mrs.
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