With Bess's assistance he then climbed up to the window, which, as has just been stated, was secured by iron bars of great thickness crossed by a stout beam of oak. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. “Yes. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.
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