"I don't think he would," acquiesced the carpenter. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. Then she moved towards the door. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. " "Here are your despatches," said Jonathan with a significant look, and giving him a sealed packet. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself.
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