s entrance into the room; "she is here.
Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. "By G--! she has
missed her footing."

There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble
groans.

Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed
to the window with a torch.

He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a
blanched cheek, to Rowland.

"Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper.

"Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly. "Why
came she here?"

"She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied
Sir Cecil, mournfully.

"Descend and take charge of the body," said Rowland, conquering his
emotion by a great effort, "I will join you in a moment. This accident
rather confirms than checks my purpose. The stain upon our family is
only half effaced: I have sworn the death of the villain and his
bastard, and I will keep my oath. Now, Sir," he added, turning to
Jonathan, as Sir Cecil and his followers obeyed his injunctions, "you
say you know the road which the person whom we seek has taken?"

"I do," replied Jonathan. "But I give no information gratis!"

"Speak, then," said Rowland, placing money in his hand.

"You'll find him at St. Saviours's stairs," answered Jonathan. "He's
about to cross the river. You'd better lose no time. He has got five
minutes' start of you. But I sent him the longest way about."

The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared.

"And now to see the end of it," said Jonathan, shortly afterwards
passing through the window. "Good night, Master."

Three persons only were left in the room. These were the Master of the
Mint, Van Galgebrok, and Mrs. Sheppard.

"A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of
the head.

"Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Hollander, shaking his head in
reply;--"very bad--very."

"But then they're staunch supporters of our friend over the water,"
continued Baptist, winking significantly; "so we must e'en hush it up in
the best way we can."

"Ja," answered Van Galgebrok. "But--sapperment!--I wish they hadn't
broken my pipe."

"JONATHAN WILD promises well," observed the Master, after a pause:
"he'll become a great man. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so."

"He'll be hanged nevertheless," replied the Hollander, giving his collar
an ugly jerk. "Mind, I, Rykhart Van Galgebrok predict it. And now let's
go back