p in humour, forbearing to mention to one another the hope that had
gone. Friday seemed the beginning of eternity; the day dragged through I
know not how, and toward evening we climbed back to our little room,
not daring to speak of what we knew in our hearts to be so,--that the
Sprightly Bess had sailed. We sat silently looking out over the dreary
stretch of roofs and down into a dingy court of Bernard's Inn below,
when suddenly there arose a commotion on the stairs, as of a man
mounting hastily. The door was almost flung from its hinges, some one
caught me by the shoulders, gazed eagerly into my face, and drew back.
For a space I thought myself dreaming. I searched my memory, and the
name came. Had it been Dorothy, or Mr. Carvel himself, I could not have
been more astonished, and my knees weakened under me.

"Jack!" I exclaimed; "Lord Comyn!"

He seized my hand. "Yes; Jack, whose life you saved, and no other," he
cried, with a sailor's impetuosity. "My God, Richard! it was true, then;
and you have been in this place for three weeks!"

"For three weeks," I repeated.

He looked at me, at John Paul, who was standing by in bewilderment,
and then about the grimy, cobwebbed walls of the dark garret, and then
turned his back to hide his emotion, and so met the bailiff, who was
coming in.

"For how much are these gentlemen in your books?" he demanded hotly.

"A small matter, your Lordship,--a mere trifle," said the man, bowing.

"How much, I say?"

"Twenty-two guineas, five shillings, and eight pence, my Lord, counting
debts, and board,--and interest," the bailiff glibly replied; for he had
no doubt taken off the account when he spied his Lordship's coach. "And
I was very good to Mr. Carvel and the captain, as your Lordship will
discover--"

"D--n your goodness!" said my Lord, cutting him short.

And he pulled out a wallet and threw some pieces at the bailiff, bidding
him get change with all haste. "And now, Richard," he added, with a
glance of disgust about him, "pack up, and we'll out of this cursed
hole!"

"I have nothing to pack, my Lord," I said.

"My Lord! Jack, I have told you, or I leave you here."

"Well, then, Jack, and you will," said I, overflowing with thankfulness
to God for the friends He had bestowed upon me. "But before we go a
step, Jack, you must know the man but for whose bravery I should long
ago have been dead of fever and ill-treatment in the Indies, and whose
generosity has brought him