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"I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. . “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. The next morning came a compact letter from her father. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. " "Your hesitation is not in your favour," observed Trenchard, sternly. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. " "I will conduct you to the outlet," replied Jack; "but I cannot leave it till I have ascertained whether my mother also is a prisoner here.
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