The door was then locked, and he was left alone. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. Not a moment is to be lost. "We work together no more. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. Trust you. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. “You are so sweet, Lucy. ” “Forget WHAT?” “And I said I wouldn’t.
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