Spurling," rejoined Ireton; "we can taste the rum when he returns. "There! off with you!" whispered Mrs. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. Burn your palette and your easel. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. "Mr.
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