The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. I shall barely be in time for the theatre. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. "All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht.
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