She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. I know that in my heart I would take whatever he gave. "Here!" shrieked Lady Trafford. " "Dying!" echoed the knight. But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. He smiled. 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.
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