That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy. ” He stared at a little eddy. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. "Your uncle must protect you. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. " "For mercy's sake go up stairs," implored Sheppard. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention.
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