"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Her mind had been and was full of the thought of Capes, a huge generalized Capes-lover. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. And the jailers also retired. "I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company.
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