"'Odd's! bodikins!" cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, "I'm in luck to-day. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. The air was thick with feelings. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. The child was now within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground.
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