" "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. The dark and desperate thoughts that were passing through his mind at this time will presently be shown. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens.
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