“I will put the question,” Drummond said gravely. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. "Back!" he cried fiercely. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. She felt she must suffocate if these men did not put her down, and for a time they would not put her down. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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