The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. " "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. It was easy to discover that he was a knave, but equally easy to perceive that he was a pleasant fellow; a combination of qualities by no means of rare occurrence. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love.
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