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" "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance. ’ ‘There is no need for this,’ he ventured mildly, and lifted his finger to show his own pistol was not cocked. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. "I have good news for you.

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