"Go—go!" "I see what you mean," rejoined Blueskin, tossing a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as it fell; "you owe Jonathan a grudge;—so do I. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Returning to the audience-chamber, Blueskin had the Jew brought before him. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. Vorsack echoed him. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs.
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