While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. He was no doubt doing his best to express the attitude of society toward these wearily heroic defendants, but he seemed to be merely rude and unfair to Ann Veronica. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. "Souls," she answered, drily. I admired your chivalry. ‘En tout cas, it is not up at all, but down. Each time that we meet I try to kill you. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. Come home alone. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. But I will never—never return.
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