So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. At any rate, he began to deliberately personate him. The papers are continually wondering what has become of ‘Alcide. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he might not belie the carpenter's favourable prediction, Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder placed against the wall, and, springing with the agility of an ape upon a sort of frame, contrived to sustain short spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for a piece of wood required in the work on which he was engaged.
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