"Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. ‘I’m on your side. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ‘But I do not pay this penalty. You get the idea. “I cannot keep silence any longer. As Jonathan scarcely expected a more satisfactory result, he made no comment; but, ordering Quilt to continue his search, and not to return until he had found the fugitive, called Abraham Mendez into the house, and shut the door.
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