Sheppard, struggling to escape, and holding the infant at arm's length; "have mercy on this helpless innocent!" And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble cries to its mother's shrieks. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance.
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