"And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. "I'm your dupe no longer. And if I don’t, I go mad. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. "I don't see why I should be obliged to pay for doing my duty. They did not have to wait long.
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