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As to Jack Sheppard, he appeared utterly reckless and insensible, and did nothing but whistle and sing the whole way. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. 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. "The gen'l'man'll be here directly. . To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Then Sheila noticed the stains.

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