"Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. "What if he did escape?" "My utmost efforts should be used to bring him to justice. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. Sixteen thousand! Mark me, young man, you'll pay it back through the nose, every dollar of it!" "I owe you nothing.
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