lighted by the skies. A house, larger than the rest, which were of the
meanest order, stood somewhat back, occupying nearly one side of the
quadrangle,--old, dingy, dilapidated. At the door of this house stood
another man, applying his latch-key to the lock. As Losely approached,
the man turned quickly, half in fear, half in menace,--a small, very
thin, impish-looking man, with peculiarly restless features that seemed
trying to run away from his face. Thin as he was, he looked all skin and
no bones, a goblin of a man whom it would not astonish you to hear could
creep through a keyhole, seeming still more shadowy and impalpable by his
slight, thin, sable dress, not of cloth, but a sort of stuff like alpaca.
Nor was that dress ragged, nor, as seen but in starlight, did it look
worn or shabby; still you had but to glance at the creature to feel that
it was a child in the same Family of Night as the ragged felon that
towered by its side. The two outlaws stared at each other. "Cutts!"
said Losely, in the old rollicking voice, but in a hoarser, rougher key,
"Cutts, my boy, here I am; welcome me!

"What? General Jas.!" returned Cutts, in a tone which was not without a
certain respectful awe, and then proceeded to pour out a series of
questions in a mysterious language, which may be thus translated and
abridged: "How long have you been in England? How has it fared with you?
You seem very badly off; coming here to hide? Nothing very bad, I hope?
What is it?"

Jasper answered in the same language, though with less practised mastery
of it, and with that constitutional levity which, whatever the time or
circumstances, occasionally gave a strange sort of wit, or queer,
uncanny, devil-me-care vein of drollery, to his modes of expression.

"Three months of the worst luck man ever had; a row with the gens-