"That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. " "Oh, dear!" simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her plate. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. Thames, meanwhile, had drawn his sword, and was about to rush upon Jonathan; but he was withheld by Wood.
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