"But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. Wood having disposed of the brandy, and pronounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-side, and informed his friend in a few words of the inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon Mr. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. “You have the ideas. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house.
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