’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in hand assaulted the thief-taker. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. It was the first—and the last! At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried, and the voice of Mr. She nodded.
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