His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat.
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