"Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. The situation bothered him considerably. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road.
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