” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all. ’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. She was too late. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. The latch had not fully caught. . Spurling; "they're both here. ” “You mean you’re going to run away with me?” He asked in semi-seriousness.
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