" "Pray, let me have a pinch!" said Edgeworth Bess, with a captivating glance. Which is C?” Ann Veronica, with a curious sinking of the heart, regarded the black cavities of the vans. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. He had recently made Mr.
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