Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. You do not know him. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. I take their life. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue.
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