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. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. "Friday!" echoed Mrs. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful.
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