. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. She told us that it was a disguise. "She is in his power, and I am here, chained hand and foot, unable to assist her. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. He had gained admission somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Heard voices. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts.
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