Once more he was the searcher. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. " While Mr. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Remember what the conjuror said. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. " And, with this generous resolve, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Arrest! arrest! help! help!" seconding the words with a shrill and peculiar cry, well known at the time to the inhabitants of the quarter in which it was uttered. But seriously, things are not so bad as you think.
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