"Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. But it would be too risky. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. “Hello!” said Ann Veronica, with arms akimbo and a careless, breathless manner.
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