This queer father of hers had given her everything but his arms. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. It is really cheap, you know. A noise was next heard, as if some instrument were applied to the door with the intent to force it open, and Jack's fears were at once dispelled, At first, he had imagined they were officers of justice, come to convey him to a stronger prison: but the voice of one of the parties, which he recognised, convinced him they were his friends.
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