"Confusion! the rascal must have picked my pocket of your letters," whispered Kneebone, "What's to be done?" "What's to be done! Why, I'm undone! How imprudent in you not to burn them. " An awful silence prevailed throughout the court. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. 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. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. In the next box hangs the rope by which he suffered. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside.
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