“Mr. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped. They steal over to Copeley's at night and dispose of the pearl for cash. 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. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. . Kneebone smiled assent. Now tell me, if you can, something about the man who calls himself Valade. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. Like the flaws of an old marble.
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