Mrs. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. “Oh, you're here, are you?” said the ruffian, with an exulting laugh: “I've been looking for you everywhere.” “Let me go,” implored Mrs. Sheppard,--“pray let me go. You hurt the child. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?” “Throttle the kid!” rejoined Blueskin, fiercely. “If you don't stop its squalling, I will. I hate children. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies.” Well knowing the savage temper of the person she had to deal with, and how likely he was to put his threat into execution, Mrs. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. “And now, widow,” continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, “I've a piece o' good news for you.” “Good news will be news to me. What is it?” “Guess,” rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. Mrs. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,--“I can't guess.” “Well, then,” returned the ruffian, “to put you out o' suspense, as the topsman remarked to poor Tom Sheppard, afore he turned him off, I'm come to make you an honourable proposal o' marriage. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Don't shake so. What I said about your brat was all stuff. I didn't mean it. It's my way when I'm ruffled. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long.--I'll give him the edication of a prig,--teach him the use of his forks betimes,--and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father.” “Never!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard; “never! never!” “Halloa! what's this?” demanded Blueskin, springing to his feet. “Do you mean to say that if I support your kid, I shan't bring him up how I please--eh?” “Don't question me, but leave me,” replied the widow wildly; “you had better.” “Leave you!” echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; “--not just yet.” “I am not unprotected,” rejoined the poor woman; “there's some one at the window. Help! help!”