Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. "I have," replied Wild; "and nothing but the evidence of my senses would have made me believe he was living, after the positive assurance I received to the contrary. And do you, Jack, attend to your work, and mind you don't get into further mischief. His friendship seemed a thing worth having. He had said so. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. . ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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