Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after all. Come with me to the Condemned Hold directly, and, if I find my fears confirmed, I'll—" He was here interrupted by the sudden entrance of the black, who rushed precipitately into the room, letting fall the heavy bunch of keys in his fright. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. “Nor am I now,” he answered. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. White,” she remarked. ’ The girl nodded understandingly. Trenchard glanced at the document.
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