. It ought not to be much. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " So saying, she retired, and Jack entered the cell. CHAPTER I. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. "Did you write it?" "No. In a moment he was beside her. A bumper round, gentlemen. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. .
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