" "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. But the five per cent. She's too pretty and unusual. It had been a trying day. A lesson learned. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. The villagers were thronging to church. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it.
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