Do you know, I envy you. . ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. "I am one. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. Perhaps she was. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. While this was going on, Jack suddenly made a movement which attracted the turnkey's attention; and during that interval the old man slipped some articles wrapped in a handkerchief into Bess's hands, who instantly secreted them in her bosom.
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