He looked from the sword to the dagger with which he had brought her down here, and grimaced. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed.
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