Sydney Courtlaw—Mr. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. "You'll never return. ” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. " Mr. "Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. There is no poison that would affect her. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. Is there any truth, do you suppose, in this rumoured marriage?” “I know nothing,” Courtlaw answered hurriedly. The plank hung over his head. He had heard everything.
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