"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. If a certain kink in your sense of honour will not permit you to go to her as a lover, go to her as a comrade. Ah! what's that?" he exclaimed, as some one brushed hastily past him. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell.
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