. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her. I burned it. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. 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. Ben watched these manoeuvres with great interest, and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead of the other boats. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature.
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