Sheppard, faintly. “Please come home. "And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth. The operation was effected with so much rapidity and so little noise, that even if any one had been on the alert, he could scarcely have detected it. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. "What weight are these irons?" asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners. The night was now profoundly dark.
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