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Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the gate. Better even than these. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. I thought perhaps you were staying with them, as you did not seem particularly anxious to recognize your old friends.
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