'When I hears a chapter from that ere book it makes my blood get
warm, and I thinks I am a young woman again. Attend to your holding,
young man. You see the thread is slipping off your hands.' Roland did
as he was bidden, but he could not help thinking of the marvellous
effect that the story of Turpin's dare-devil deeds had upon her. 'A
fit mother for highwaymen,' he muttered, meditating. At that moment
The Lifter, who happened to raise his eye from the page, cried out:

'Look out, Roland!' Quick as thought our hero sprang to his feet,
but in doing so received a terrible blow on the shoulder. Instantly
he saw that The Lifter's warning had saved his life; and that the
blow which he had received upon the shoulder was aimed at his head.
The hag stood before him with a short iron bar, used as a fire poker,
in her hand; and her eyes blazed with a hate that was devilish to
look upon. She approached him again with the bar uplifted, believing
that he was stunned and disabled; but thrusting his hand into his
pocket he drew his pistol and cocked it.

'Advance a step, you infamous old murderess, and your brains strew
the ground.' She was foiled and let drop her weapon. But for the hell
of rage that stormed within her she must have some outlet.

'Ah,' she screamed,' so you have turned traitor to your own;' and
launching the bar at The Lifter's head, she knocked him insensible to
the ground. The unfortunate wretch lay where he fell, without making
a move, and Roland perceived that the blood welled from a wound in
his head.

'So you warned him, did you?' she screamed again, and stooping she
picked up the bar and raised it above his head. Roland well understood