While Jonathan was conversing with Austin, from whom he took care to conceal the fact of his having seen Sheppard since his escape, Ireton entered the Lodge. She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. . . "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. Look at the poor victim at your feet. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. . Tell me I haven’t heard.
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