He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. Kneebone made his appearance. His voice now had lost its ironies. I am not sure, but I believe that he has just thought of something. "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy. This is her first adventure. They had cried a little, both. She did not remember him, but he said that he had introduced himself to her when she was visiting the butcher's family.
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