“What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. "Surely," she said, after a pause, "you don't attach any importance to what my mother has just said. "And Jack?" "Gone too," sobbed his daughter. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. " "Done!" cried the old sailor. ” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion.
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