Norris was so frightened that she ordered the postboys to drive back as fast as they could. "I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you. Rowland," she added, in an altered tone, "I am certain I shall not live many days. A paralyzing horror was upon her. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. The carpenter did not hesitate a moment. 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. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. Yet there was nothing for her to do. To-morrow they will all be contradicted. — Am I to understand that you intend to plead guilty, Sir Rowland?" he added. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you.
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