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" "I tell you what, Jack," said Gay, "I've several urgent engagements this morning; but I'll return to-morrow, and hear the rest of your story. I arranged that he should. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. " "My father!" exclaimed Thames, in the utmost astonishment; "let me see it!" "Here it is," returned Jack, producing a small picture in a case set with brilliants. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. You must, know, Sir Rowland—for I've no secrets from you—that, in the course of my business I've found it convenient to become the owner of a small Dutch sloop; by means of which I can transmit any light ware,—such as gold watches, rings, and plate, as well as occasionally a bank or goldsmith's note, which has been spoken with by way of the mail,—you understand me?—to Holland or Flanders, and obtain a secure and ready market for them.
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