It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. It was 1582. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard.
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