"Either he or you must return with me," answered Jonathan. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. "Here's the door. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. ’ ‘Have no fear. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven.
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