I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. Half French. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. "It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. It is no good. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. ” He was silent for a moment or two. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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