‘Who have lately joined us,’ she said, adding sotto voce, ‘A very great tragedy. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. Wood fared still worse. “I think that I shall be the most unpopular man in London. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. After debating with himself whether he should further seek an interview, which, though, now in his power, was so sedulously shunned by the other party, he decided in the negative; and contenting himself with writing upon a slip of paper the hasty words,—"You are known by the villagers,—be upon your guard,"—he gave it to the ostler, with instructions to deliver it instantly to the owner of the horse he pointed out, and pursued his course. Scarcely any one noticed the full measure of her consternation. To his relief, she nodded. I hate what I am.
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