She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. " "He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father," remonstrated Thames; "you'd better let me help him. I awaken easily. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. Kneebone, he took his departure. He brightened as she took off her hood. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him.
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