“More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. ” “And such a beast of a one,” Sydney remarked vigorously. She moaned as she touched him. "Don't fire," cried the latter. But I'll tell you about him some other time.
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