While involved in this crowd, near Temple Bar, —where the thoroughfare was most dangerous from the masses of ruin that impeded it,—an individual, whose swarthy features recalled to the carpenter one of his tormentors of the previous night, collared him, and, with bitter imprecations accused him of stealing his child. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. "Then we're imprisoned. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my wife. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq.
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