Earles with composure into the inner room. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. "Would you rather be alone?" "No. "Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. “Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom.
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