The sentence was not completed. The cards dropped from her hands, and she fell back, trembling, in her chair. For at the door stood the apparition of a man, his face covered with black crape. Marian screamed and rushed into her mother's arms, where she lay almost senseless from terror.
"Don't be frightened, ladies," said the apparition; "don't be frightened. Strike me petrified! but I'm as gentle as a dove, and wouldn't hurt a chicken! Only don't you scream again, or we'll have to gag your pretty mouths. Come in, Jim; the garrison's deserted."
At this invitation, another apparition, his face also covered with black crape, entered the room. Mrs. Nuttall's heart beat fast with fear, but she had courage enough to say,--
"Oh, please, good gentlemen--" when the second apparition interrupted her.
"None of that gammon. We're not good gentlemen--we're bushrangers. Is there anyone in the house besides yourselves?"
"No, sir," said the trembling woman, contradictorily; "only the cook."
"Where are all the men? Come--answer quickly."
As well as she was able, Mrs. Nuttall explained the cause of the men's absence.
"That's lucky for them," said Jim Pizey, "and lucky for us, too. Children lost, eh! Whose children?"
"A stockman's, sir, and Little Peter."