When gallant TOM SHEPPARD to Tyburn was led,— "Stop the cart at the Crown—stop a moment," he said. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. " The walls appeared to rock; bulging shadows reached out; the candle flames became mocking eyes; and the blood drummed thunderously in Spurlock's ears. CONTENTS.
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