" "That's impossible," replied Jack. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. "You frighten the cull out of his senses. He wanted her named Mary. By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. ’ ‘Exactly so. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. ‘Signed by a priest at Le Havre, so it must be true. I’ll have it out with him. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence.
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