Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. "We've no time for any Bedlam scenes now. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. "Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. I should like Mr. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. One who—who—tres.
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