But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. " "The very face," exclaimed Gay, advancing to look at it;—"with all the escapes written in it. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly.
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