ss
through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor,
which appeared to have been recently dislodged. "He _has_ passed this
way," cried Jonathan, exultingly; "I have him safe enough." He then
closed the lantern, mounted without much difficulty upon the roof, and
proceeded cautiously along the tiles.

The night was now profoundly dark. Jonathan had to feel his way. A
single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he
had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen
through it. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were
blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the
building. The venturous climber gazed for a moment at the assemblage
beneath, to ascertain that he was not discovered; and, having satisfied
himself in this particular, he stepped out more boldly. On gaining a
stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and
again unmasked his lantern. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except
the crumbling brickwork. "Confusion!" ejaculated Jonathan: "can he have
escaped? No. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly
barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. He can't be far
off. I shall find him yet. Ah! I have it," he added, after a moment's
deliberation; "he's there, I'll be sworn." And, once more enveloping
himself in darkness, he pursued his course.

He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof,
approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story
loftier than its neighbours. Apparently, Jonathan was well acquainted
with the premises; for, feeling about in the dark, he speedily
discovered a ladder, up the steps of which he hurried. Drawing a pistol,
and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst
through an open trap-door into a small loft.

The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of
defence, with the child in his arms.

"Aha!" exclaimed Jonathan, acting upon the information he had obtained
from Wood; "I have found you at last. Your servant, Mr. Darrell."

"Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly.

"A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in
his pocket.

"How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell.

"What should I do here alone if I were an enemy? But, come, don't let us
waste time in bandying words, when we might employ it so much more
profitably. Your life, an