The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. I guess. Advancing towards the Master, and claiming an audience, which was instantly granted, Jonathan, without much circumlocution, related the sum of the strange story he had just learnt from Wood, omitting nothing except a few trifling particulars, which he thought it politic to keep back; and, with this view, he said not a word of there being any probability of capturing the fugitive, but, on the contrary, roundly asserted that his informant had witnessed that person's escape. The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. You would find things to laugh at even in Artemus Ward. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then has been closed. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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