But Jack was too nimble for him. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. “I am happy. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. Spurling, who wished to protract the discovery of the escape as long as possible.
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