Do not mistake me. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. "Be it so," replied Jack. " "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly.
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