Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. “Dare!” she said. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. " With this praiseworthy determination, he was hastening down stairs, with the utmost rapidity, when he encountered a female, whom he took, in the darkness, to be Mrs. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG.
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