With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. 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. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. "Blueskin's a friend in need," he said. Your old rooms are there, if you choose.
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