At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore.
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