Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. Wood, was examined. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. "What are you doing with him?" "It's a long story, Captain, and I've no breath to tell it,—unless you choose to release me," rejoined Quilt. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. And there," he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocketbook, "is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds.
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