While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. In fact he was thinking of other things. ’ Gerald laughed. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. ’ ‘I do not lie to you now,’ she said, near frantic at the thought of losing him. He began to talk again in quick undertones that she could not clearly hear. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping.
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