Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. ‘Can’t see a thing. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. "What's that?" asked Wild. ” “I think I am. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. ‘You could have fetched me home. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself.
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