As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. " "Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's," cried Jack, brandishing the bar. “Mrs. For you say that you swim. Ah! I have it," he added, after a moment's deliberation; "he's there, I'll be sworn.
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