THAMES DARRELL. I've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care. 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. Something draws everybody. Once over the iron spikes, Bess exhibited no reluctance to be let down on the other side of the wall. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. But he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the drain, turned his attention to another quarter. Notwithstanding the heat of the season,—which was not, however, found particularly inconvenient in this subterranean region,—a large heaped-up fire blazed ruddily in one corner, and lighted up a circle of as villanous countenances as ever flame shone upon. A few random students gawked at them in the hall. He was just as much a greater master than any other I ever saw, as he was a greater judge of time and measure. Nothing is of any concern of ours except the discovery of the man’s identity.
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