I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. ” “Yes. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. She did not know herself. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. “I feared we might have a fog. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. Sheppard.
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