" "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. " As this was said, Jack turned with the swiftness of thought, and shortening his sword, prepared to plunge it into the thief-taker's heart. “What a little brick!” he murmured. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat. Anybody in pain had only to call to him.
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