“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. ” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. Wild's figure. " "That's impossible," replied Jack. They took their places at a distant table. The policy of this step was immediately apparent. . ’ Alderley laughed.
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