When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. He did not have to. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. . Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry.
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