‘Oh, mon dieu. ” “But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked. Before he forced an entrance, Jack tried it, and, to his great surprise and delight, found it unfastened. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. With this she now entered. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror.
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