"Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. " "Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood; "what's to pay, David?" "Don't affront me, Owen, by asking such a question," returned the landlord; "hadn't you better stop and finish the bottle?" "Not a drop more," replied Wood. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe. I don't think he'll come to himself too soon. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. .
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