“You are afraid,” she said, “that the young man who thinks that he is my husband has upset me. " "Did you discover any trace of footsteps?" inquired Jack eagerly. 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. ‘No one would credit that you are three years older than I. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd.
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