"Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. " "You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him. We married, and for a time we were happy. "A man!" "At your service, my dear," replied the jailer. "Thanks.
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