I’m not that sort I quite agree. ’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully. Wood resounded from below. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. “In fact, yes, I do. “No power on earth will persuade me we’re not two rather disreputable persons. Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open.
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