"Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. What a contrast did the lovely scene she now gazed upon present to the squalid neighbourhood she had recently quitted! On all sides, expanded prospects of country the most exquisite and most varied. "He has quite the air of one. 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. And you’d better have her fetch in some food for the missie, an’ all. It was a grand life. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you.
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