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It was late in the afternoon when the case was called on after a number of others, but the sixth chamber was crowded with journalists and barristers, as it always was on Fridays, when Delesvaux a man with hawk-like features and a flaming complexion would sit "tearing up newspaper articles with beak and talons," as Émile de Girardin said of him.

When David called her she gathered up the flowers anyhow in her apron, and dawdled towards him, leaving a trail of them behind her. As she reached him, however, she was struck by a book sticking out of his pocket, and, stooping over him, with a sudden hawk-like gesture, as he sprawled head downwards, she tried to get hold of it. But he felt her movement.

It was an ascetic face, very sharp and clear-cut. It had a stately profile. The long and wiry grizzled moustache, the deep-set, hawk-like eyes, the acute, intense, intellectual features, all were very familiar. So was the outer setting of long, white hair, straight and silvery as it fell, and just curled in one wave-like inward sweep where it turned and rested on the stooping shoulders.

He went high again, until he had a wide view of the pleasant upland country of western New York State, and then made a long coast down, and so up again, and then a coast. Then as he came swooping a quarter of a mile above a village he saw people running about, running away evidently in relation to his hawk-like passage. He got an idea that he had been shot at.

His grave, hawk-like features relaxed. A faint grin appeared under his long moustache. Without a word he squatted down beside me. Next the Cattleman. He looked about him with a comical expression of dismay, and burst into a hearty laugh. "I believe I said I was sorry for those other fellows," he remarked. Windy Bill was the last.

"Hello!" shouted a voice from the bushes, and Devil Judd Tolliver issued from them with an axe on his shoulder. "I heerd you'd come back an' I'm glad to see ye." He came down to the road and shook Hale's hand heartily. "Whut you been cryin' about?" he added, turning his hawk-like eyes on the little girl. "Nothin'," she said sullenly.

Half way up its almost perpendicular side a spur jutted into the air, and on this a figure stood. Only the hawk-like eyes of Dale could have seen the clenched fists raised high in a gesture of fury, eloquent of a flow of oaths which he knew were being hurled upon the trespassers in the clearing. The Colonel and Bob, following his steady gaze, saw and understood.

But as fortune continued to run against Maruffi, he began to fear that the time was not favorable. What a picture those laughing, hawk-like men formed, surrounding the black, resentful merchant! Martel Savigno could have drawn a group like that, he mused, for he had a rare appreciation of his own people, no matter what might be said of his talent.

When the carriage had drawn up in front of the house, the colonel became aware of two figures on the long piazza. At one end, in a massive oaken armchair, sat an old man seemingly a very old man, for he was bent and wrinkled, with thin white hair hanging down upon his shoulders. His face, of a highbred and strongly marked type, emphasised by age, had the hawk-like contour, that is supposed to betoken extreme acquisitiveness. His faded eyes were turned toward a woman, dressed in a homespun frock and a muslin cap, who sat bolt upright, in a straight-backed chair, at the other end of the piazza, with her hands folded on her lap, looking fixedly toward her vis-

"How did this child live to get ashore?" asked Frye, keenly interested. "That's the curis part," replied Uncle Terry; "she was put in a box an' tied 'tween two feather beds an' cum ashore dry as a duck." Frye stroked his nose reflectively, stooping over as he did and watching his visitor with hawk-like eyes. "A very well-told tale, Mr. Terry," he said at last. "A very well-told tale indeed!