Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. " "I know what is good," she replied. "Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning," continued Wild. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. .
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