Besides listening to innumerable descriptions of this sort,

"Now," said Mr. Gryce, "no fuss and no swearing; you are in for it, and you might as well take it quietly as any other way."

"Give me a clutch on that girl, that's all," said her father, "Where is she? Let me see her; every father has a right to see his own daughter,"

"You shall see her," returned my superior, "but not till her husband is here to protect her."

"Her husband? ah, you know about that do you?" growled the heavy voice of the son. "A rich man they say he is and a proud one. Let him come and look at us lying here like dogs and say how he will enjoy having his wife's father and brother grinding away their lives in prison.

"Mr. Blake is coming," quoth Mr. Gryce, who by some preconcerted signal from the window had drawn that gentleman across the street. "He will tell you himself that he considers prison the best place for you." Blast you! but he--"

"But he, what?" inquired I, as the door opened and Mr. Blake with a pale face and agitated mien entered the room.

The wretch did not answer. Rousing from the cowering position in which they had both lain since their capture, the father and son struggled up in some sort of measure to their feet, and with hot, anxious eyes surveyed the countenance of the gentleman before them, as if they felt their fate hung upon the expression of his pallid face. The son was the first to speak.

"How do you do, brother-in-law," were his sullen and insulting words.