" The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. You may have to carry them further and longer than you think. "He comes!" cried a thousand voices, and the shout ascended to Smithfield, descended to Snow Hill, and told those who were assembled on Holborn Hill that Sheppard had left the prison. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger.
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