“Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although we never take in promiscuous travellers. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. “I’ll turn you here. David left this afternoon. "I don't know; I really don't know. " With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. Free, there is nothing left to her but the canal. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. “Don’t let them know I’m here. 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.
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