" "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. I did not reckon upon—him. "Do not go near him, mother," cried Jack; "do not believe him. ’ Her gaze followed the butler, who was moving towards the door. It was not your fault you failed. 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. Burn your palette and your easel. It is possible she is dangerous, and the police are looking into several cold murder cases where she may have been involved. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. " Spurlock smiled at the doctor. He had not to wait long. .
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