A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.
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