"What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. He had always warned her explicitly about turning others into vampires. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask. "By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. Still no sound. Amongst them was a revolver. Oh, you must believe me. A pig, yes, a little. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then.
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