He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. Taking up a couple of large stones which lay near, Jack tried to beat the round basils of the fetters into an oval form, so as to enable him to slip his heels through them. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. "Will that do?" he added, returning it.
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