Never was heard such a bawling as these unfortunate wights kept up. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. “I must go. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. Sheppard, with a look, the wildness of which greatly alarmed her companion.
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