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A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. "Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth turned away abruptly. Gosse had to release his clamp on her mouth, for the awkwardness of the position made it impossible to negotiate the little stair. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. " "Yon ask impossibilities," replied Jonathan, sullenly. I never could. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. “Think of that check you endorsed. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants.

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