"What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. The man’s passion was infectious. Mr. 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. But I had to know for sure. ‘So are you. "You poor child!—you can have all the dogs on the island, if you want them! Come along to the kitchen, and we'll give Rollo a tubbing. \" He rose and departed. It was not quite the search I intended,’ he said with a touch of selfmockery as he released her, ‘but success comes in all sorts of unexpected ways. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern.
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