When she saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her expression changed as though by magic. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Sheppard's good health, and success to him!" Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and, as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view was no longer obstructed. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. But if you mean to take me to this Gérard, I shall know what to say to him. "What's that you're saying about Jack Sheppard?" she cried. I was—I was a corespondent. It is the vapouring school girl. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch.
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