Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. The blood temporarily halted to her brain, Michelle slept peacefully again. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance.
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