"He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. This is a plot entirely abominable, and I scorn to be part of it. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. In an instant, she turned on him. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days.
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