He could neither stifle nor deaden that. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. 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. They will be safe. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. Charcoal.
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