"To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. . It was said, that he received an affront from James, in the shape of a public reprimand, which his pride could not forgive. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up.
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