"No; I felt him hit me, but it was nothing." I reached up my trembling hand, but he caught it as it touched his shoulder, and was in the act of snatching it away, when his own came in contact with the handle of the knife.
"Great heavens!" he ejaculated, as he drew it forth from where it was sticking through the stiff collar of his coat; "right through from side to side--what a narrow escape!" "I--I thought he had killed you," I cried faintly, and a deathly sensation made me feel for the moment as if I must fall.
"No, not a scratch," he said firmly now.

"A little memento," he muttered, as he took out his handkerchief and wrapped it round the blade before thrusting the knife in his breast-pocket.

"I must keep that for my private museum, Herrick.

Here, my lads, throw something over that wretch.

Sentry, I'll talk to you later on.