" "Ah," said Spurlock; "that kind of a man. ’ The girl nodded understandingly. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses. —I do not congratulate you on your success. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself.
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