"Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. "Well, Sir Rowland," he said, after a brief pause, during which the knight regarded him with a searching glance, as if endeavouring to recall his features, "I will not gainsay your words. You see, it is that I begin to like you, even that you are of this disposition extremely interfering. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket.
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