"Leave go!" cried Jack, struggling violently, and raising his hand, "or I'll maul you for life. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. "Promise me that. " "And you flatter yourself you can detain me?" laughed Jack. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, "I've good news for you. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. The terror faded from her eyes. I don’t quite know why. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out.
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