" "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. ' Upon which the other answered, 'that he accepted his invitation with pleasure, and would make a point of waiting upon him,' Ha! ha! ha!" "Did he say so?" cried Shotbolt. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps. .
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