Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. "I have nothing. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls.
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