The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years. "Ah! who have we here?" exclaimed Griffin. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. “Come on in. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck.
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