Gerald seized Melusine by the hand and drew her towards the stairs, throwing a command at Kimble as he did so. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. You yourself, I am sure, recognize how impossible you have made it for me now to do anything of the sort. White assented. 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. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. "Jack is just gone back to the Condemned Hold.
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