‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. "A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me.
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