Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. "I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. Refused admittance, they broke open the door. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six.
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