Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. " "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the knight, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to break. The future was not so black. We're all safe!" "Don't lose a moment then," cried Jack, forcing himself into the aperture, while the Amazon, assisted by Bess, pulled him through it.
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