" "Perhaps I read of it somewhere. Could she go through with it? She must. It shall be the bludgeon. ” He ruminated for a minute. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house.
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