" "But, Mr. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. " At this juncture, the door opened, and Thames entered the room.
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