But now that this bar is removed, I trust I may, without impropriety, urge it. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and
levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any
reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing
himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. Some shadow of reserve seemed to
have crept up between them. The joy of being loved
thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had
nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Wood's
advice and assistance, but the thought of the reception she was likely to meet
with from his wife deterred her from executing this resolution. You’re tired, of
course. CHAPTER XII.
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