” She spoke with a certain asperity. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. What! mum still. Ed. 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. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm.
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