Returning to the audience-chamber, Blueskin had the Jew brought before him. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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