" CHAPTER XVIII. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. But he held the smile until she turned away from the curtain. This, then, was the cause of the widow's wild inexplicable look,—of her sudden shriek! Explaining his suspicious in a whisper to Jack's captor, who proved to be a church-warden and a constable, by name John Dump,—Mr. “I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun.
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