" "You'll dance upon nothing, presently," rejoined Jonathan, brutally. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. “Hello, John. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed.
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