And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. Supper was over. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. He knew what he knew. Apparently, Jonathan was well acquainted with the premises; for, feeling about in the dark, he speedily discovered a ladder, up the steps of which he hurried. Will you go? You'll be paid handsomely for your trouble. " "Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin.
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