” “I sent a telegram to say I was all right. I do want them. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. " "What can be done for him?" cried Thames. Heaven alone knows why. Ah Cum was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front.
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