"Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. ” She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive movement. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. " He opened his eyes again. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. She looked up, and recognized Mr. A blow from the iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor. “No! I want to do without that.
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