"Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. She had no intention of fighting fair. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. She could not say who, not yet. Will you stand by and watch me?" The contents of the trunk only thickened the fog. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in the rocks. "You may," replied Jack: "I'll fight for you to the last gasp. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. .
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