The story of that wound should be told. When he was yet hardly more than a boy, before he had come up to London, he was living in a house in the country which his father then occupied. At the time his father was absent, and he and his sister only were in the house with the maid-servants. His sister had a few jewels in her room, and an exaggerated report of them having come to the ears of certain enterprising burglars, a little plan was arranged for obtaining them. A small boy was hidden in the house, a window was opened, and at the proper witching hour of night a stout individual crept up-stairs in his stocking-feet, and was already at Kate Vavasor's door,--when, in the dark, dressed only in his nightshirt, wholly unarmed, George Vavasor flew at the fellow's throat. Two hours elapsed before the horror-stricken women of the house could bring men to the place. George's face had then been ripped open from the eye downwards, with some chisel, or house-breaking instrument. But the man was dead. George had wrenched from him his own tool, and having first jabbed him all over with insufficient wounds, had at last driven the steel through his windpipe. The small boy escaped, carrying with him two shillings and threepence which Kate had left upon the drawing-room mantelpiece.

The story of that wound should be told. When he was a youth, he lived in his father's house in the country. At the time his father was absent, and only he and his sister were in the house with the maid-servants. His sister had a few jewels in her room, and when an exaggerated report of them reached the ears of some enterprising burglars, they hatched a little plan. A small boy was hidden in the house, a window was opened, and in the dead of night a man crept upstairs in his stocking-feet, and was already at Kate Vavasor's door - when George, in his nightshirt, wholly unarmed, flew at the fellow's throat. George's face was ripped open from the eye downwards, with a chisel used as a house-breaking instrument. But the man was dead. George had wrenched his own tool from him, and after several vain jabs, had at last driven the steel through his windpipe. The small boy escaped.
