You said that it would bring trouble. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam.
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