Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. ’ ‘He said!’ Melusine uttered scornfully. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs.
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