Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. ‘Burned them, one by one, right before that fellow’s eyes. "I began to fear, from his having quitted the old place, that some misfortune must have befallen him.
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