ster Ida!" repeated the old man, surprised in his turn.

"Yes," said Jack; believing, his astonishment feigned. "You needn't
pretend that you don't know anything about her. I know that she is in
your hands."

"Then if you know so much," said the other, shrugging his shoulders,
"there is no need of asking."

Jack was about to press the question, but the old man, anticipating
him, pointed to a plate of food which he pushed in upon a shelf, just in
front of the sliding door, and said: "Here's some supper for you. When
you get ready to go to bed you can lie down on the sofa. Sorry we didn't
know of your coming, or we would have got our best bed-chamber ready for
you. Good-night, and pleasant dreams!"

Smiling disagreeably he slid to the door, bolted it, and disappeared,
leaving Jack more depressed, if possible, than before.

CHAPTER XX. JACK IN CONFINEMENT.

THE anxiety of Mr. Abel Crump's family, when Jack failed to return
at night, can be imagined. They feared that he had fallen among
unscrupulous persons, of whom there is no lack in every large city, and
that some ill had come to him. The baker instituted immediate inquiries,
but was unsuccessful in obtaining any trace of his nephew. He resolved
to delay as long as possible communicating the sad intelligence to his
brother Timothy, who he knew would be quite (sic) overwhelwed by this
double blow.

In the mean time, let us see how Jack enjoyed himself. We will look in
upon him after he has been confined four days. To a youth as active
as himself, nothing could be more wearisome. It did not add to his
cheerfulness to reflect that Ida was in the power of the one who had
brought upon him his imprisonment, while he was absolutely unable to
help her. He did not lack for food. This was brought him three times a
day. His meals, in fact, were all he had to look forward to, to break
the monotony of his confinement. The books upon the table were not of a
kind likely to interest him, though he had tried to find entertainment
in them.

Four days he had lived, or rather vegetated in this way. His spirit
chafed against the confinement.

"I believe," thought he, "I would sooner die than be imprisoned for a
long term. Yet," and here he sighed, "who knows what may be the length
of my present confinement? They will be sure to find some excuse for
retaining me."

While he was indulging in these uncomfortable reflections, suddenly the
little door in the wall, previously