This gloom was impossible. " "Impossible, Sir," replied Ireton, greatly alarmed. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds.
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