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A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. After he had endured this torture for an hour, at a sign from Wild another hundred weight was added. Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened—Shotbolt's note having been received just before. ‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. Sheppard. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. You will never be happy with this hanging over you. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture.
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