While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. The completest capitulation would not wipe out that trouble. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. There were swift actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft.
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