" "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. " "I care not why you did it," said Jack, sternly. . She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. We will beg our bread and our shelter, and our passage on a boat.
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