"Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. He, next, discovered that Blueskin was gone; and, pursuing his scrutiny, found that he had carried off all the banknotes, gold, and letters,—including, what Jonathan himself was not aware of,—the two packets which he had abstracted from the person of Thames. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. Spurlock had not coached her on this line of conduct. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. He reached for her, and she struck savagely.
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