Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. "You've ruined my hopes. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. Not enough of them to make a difference. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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