The next morning came a compact letter from her father. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. He winced from the wasp-like sting. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me.
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