Jonathan threw open the street-door. ’ Gerald could not resist. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. 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. "He's about to cross the river. He’s waiting. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. " "Come along, then. "I shall be able to stretch my limbs presently—ha! ha!" "Hush!" cried Kneebone, "I hear a noise without. ” “Of course,” his friend answered. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things.
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