‘Laisse-moi. ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. " "I didn't want it," replied Jack; "but who are those gentlemen?" "Friends of yours," replied Figg; "come to see you;—Sir James Thornhill, Mr. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. "And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness. S. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him.
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