"I'll have my cot in here," said Spurlock to Ruth, "where this table is. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. 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. I freely forgive you. I told you that at the outset. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times.
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