" "What time is it?" inquired Jack. He shall expiate his offences on the gibbet. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. Nobody could possibly find him now. “This is not every day. He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker.
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