A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy stone dropping on his head or feet,—regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted by some of the jailers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. " Some order. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. " "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. ’ He sighed. . Her heart thudded. " "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth.
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