It was Jack's intention to have knocked him down with the iron bar; but he was so struck with the janizary's looks, that he determined to spare him till he had ascertained his purpose. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the neighbouring hill. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. “I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly.
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