It is you who took my name, not I yours. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Is this a reason?’ ‘Not good enough? Now I had every hope that it would appeal to you. Please sit with me. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman.
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