"Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. “I expected you this morning,” he said. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. The Disguise 261 VI. He turned. " This strong feeling of remorse having found a natural vent, in some degree subsided, and he addressed himself to his present situation. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her.
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