. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. It was horrible. ‘Well?’ she said. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. "However, I will be there. CHAPTER XII. Listen, Jack.
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