Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. What a buzz of admiration ran round the court as he appeared! And, how handsome and composed he looked! Everybody wondered that such a stripling could commit such desperate robberies. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Giles! "Devil seize the woman!" growled the singer, as he brought his ditty to a close; "will nothing tempt her out? Widow Sheppard, I say," he added, rising, "don't be afraid.
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