Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. "Don't you hear those shouts? Yon fellow's clamour has brought the whole horde of jail-birds and cut-throats that infest this place about our ears. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got.
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