“I don’t understand. ” “I think I am. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. Bring me food, a man, hurry!” She placed the stone back over the crypt to hide the evidence of what she had uncovered. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House 408 XXII.
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