" That was true, thought Spurlock. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. I don't care how lonesome it is. I tell you that because it puts us on a footing. She gave her lips to his without resistance. Miss Annabel is her sister. Yes—as he would have liked. Up to dinner yesterday I did not expect to come to Canton.
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