Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head. “I go to private school right now. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. " "Here's a pocket-book full of notes, and a heavy bag of gold," said Blueskin, examining the articles on the floor. "Thinking it likely you might desire to have this information, I prepared accordingly. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap.
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