The next hour makes, or mars you for ever. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. "Thinking it likely you might desire to have this information, I prepared accordingly. “Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. " "So I perceive," replied Wood. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. Wood having disposed of the brandy, and pronounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-side, and informed his friend in a few words of the inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon Mr. ‘Hilary was right.
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