The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. Jackson took an accurate survey of the room with his one eye, Mr. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. . ’ So pat, thought Gerald. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days.
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