There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. Blueskin might have butchered you and your brat before I'd have lifted a finger to prevent him, if it hadn't suited my purposes to do so, and he hadn't incurred my displeasure. He lowered himself on to her. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose.
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