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” “But I AM anxious,” said Mr. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. I hope that you did not permit her to feed?” “But I did! I did!” She sobbed. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm.

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