The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. "No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he would have merited his fate. He told me that he was a millionaire. Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share him. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment.
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