The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. " "And have my escapes really made so much noise as to reach the ear of royalty?" mused Jack. But for him she might have been alive and happy. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. .
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