" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. He came over to me. ” Lucy commented, dismayed. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. "You shall never behold me alive. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. E. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. Wood's cries: but, regardless of this, he darted along a passage, gained the shop, and passed through an open door into the street. You certainly had to hand it to these Chinks.
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