Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. ’ ‘So I heard. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. He declined to come in. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. " "My confessor!" ejaculated the knight, in the extremity of surprise; "has he betrayed his sacred trust?" "He has," replied the other, grinning; "and this will be a caution to you in future, how you confide a secret of consequence to a priest. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh.
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