It was better even than the hymn-singing. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. " "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol.
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