I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. ‘This is not a place for a man. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure.
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