Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm.
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