” Anna nodded. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. "Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. You have not considered the advantages.
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