"It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Austin, may repeat it if he pleases to his master, Jonathan Wild,—I have not. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment.
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