"You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jackson, coldly. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. .
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