1. " Not many days after this event, on a bright October morning, the bells rang a merry peal from the old gray tower of Willesden church. . He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. Conceiving the opportunity too favourable to be lost, Jack sprang suddenly over the hedge, and before the man, who was floundering on the ground with one foot in the stirrup, could extricate himself from his embarrassing position, secured his pistols, which he drew from the holsters, and held them to his head. For a space he rode the whirligig. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in the morning.
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