"Yes; where is he now?"
"Not far away."
"He is still your hero?"
"Well, he's having a pretty tough time of it now," said the young man, thoughtfully.
"What's the matter with him?"
"Consumption,—a churchyard cough; it nearly chokes him."
"Will you come with him?"
"It depends on his disguise."
Miss Gastonguay steadied herself against one of the gates, and put her hand against her side. When this disgraceful thing was over, would her heart be at rest?
"There's some private party after him," said the young man, thoughtfully. "We can't make out who, but they're not regulars. We nearly got tripped in New York. You've no more to say to me, ma'am?"