Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no time as yet for hostile movements. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood. She did not start for the Imperial College. No, not one little bit. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr.
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