Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. The assemblage which was gathered together was almost countless. She was dressed in a little white frock, with a very long body, and very short sleeves, which looked (from a certain fullness about the hips,) as if it was intended to be worn with a hoop. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. "Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. Wood resounded from below. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. She doesn’t like you because she says the Beck’s are not ‘our kind of people’ which is her code for them not being rich enough.
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