Jack uttered this last sentence with the doleful accents of a deeply-injured man--such an accent as one would employ in telling of a shameful trick practised upon his innocence. "It lay in mine," he continued. "There it was; I had seized it; I had it; I held it; I had squeezed it; and--good Lord!--Macrorie, what was I to do? I'll tell you what I did--I squeezed it again. I thought that now it would go; but it wouldn't. Well, I tried it again. No go. Once more--and once again. On my soul, Macrorie, it still lay in mine. I cannot tell you what thoughts I had. It seemed like indelicacy. It was a bitter thing to associate indelicacy with one like little Louie; but--hang it!--there was the awful fact. Suddenly, the thought struck me that the hand was larger than Louie's. At that thought, a ghastly sensation came over me; and, just at that moment, the lady herself turned her face, blushing, arch, with a mischievous smile. To my consternation, and to my--well, yes--to my horror, I saw Mrs. Finnimore!" "Good Lord!" I exclaimed. "A stronger expression would fail to do justice to the occasion," said Jack, helping himself to a glass of beer. "For my part, the thrill of unspeakable horror that was imparted by that shock is still strong within me. There, my boy, you have my story. I leave the rest to your imagination." "The rest? Why, do you mean to say that this is all?" "All!" cried Jack, with a wild laugh. "All? My dear boy, it is only the faint beginning; but it implies all the rest." "What did she say?" I asked, meekly. "Say--say? What! After--well, never mind. Hang it! Don't drive me into particulars. Don't you see? Why, there I was. I had made an assault, broken through the enemy's lines, thought I was carrying every thing before me, when suddenly I found myself confronted, not by an inferior force, but by an overwhelming superiority of numbers--horse, foot, and artillery, marines, and masked batteries--yes, and baggage-wagons--all assaulting me in front, in flank, and in the rear. Pooh!" "Don't talk shop, Jack." "Shop? Will you be kind enough to suggest some ordinary figure of speech that will give an idea of my situation? Plain language is quite useless. At least, I find it so." "But, at any rate, what did she say?" "Why," answered Jack, in a more dismal voice than ever, "she said, 'Ah, Jack!'--she called me Jack!--'Ah, Jack! I saw you looking for me. I knew you would come after me.'" "Good Heavens!" I cried; "and what did you say?" "Say? Heavens and earth, man! what could I say? Wasn't I a gentleman? Wasn't she a lady? Hadn't I forced her to commit herself? Didn't I have to assume the responsibility and pocket the consequences? Say! Oh, Macrorie! what is the use of imagination, if a man will not exercise it?" "And so you're in for it?" said I, after a pause. "To the depth of several miles," said Jack, relighting his pipe, which in the energy of his narrative had gone out. "And you don't think of trying to back out?"