A furious attack was made on Jonathan, who, though he defended himself like a lion, was desperately wounded, and would inevitably have perished if he had not been protected by the guards, who were obliged to use both swords and fire-arms upon the mob in his defence. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. Some excuse for this rapacity may perhaps be found in the fact, that five thousand pounds was paid for the purchase of the Press Yard by Mr. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. But they cut it all off. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love.
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