The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “He is quiet only this minute,” she said to the official. Retreating as quickly as he could, Jack opened the first door he came to, entered a room, and searching in the dark for some place of concealment, fortunately discovered a skreen, behind which he crept. Groans and hoots were now raised by the crowd, and there was an evident disposition to rescue. My dress, my person will be minutely described.
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