He got off on it. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. 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. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. "They have ever since been deposited in a place of safety.
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