Hastening to the church, he entered it by the very door near which his first crime had been committed. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. But I have powerful friends. "It is the last," continued the knight, sternly; "and I trust we may never meet again, I have paid you this large sum—not because you are entitled to it, for you have failed in what you undertook to do, but because I desire to be troubled with you no further. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical.
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