" There was a pause. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. You are one of the Immortals. “Where am I?” he muttered. ‘Hollow. “Some day,” she answered. " "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey.
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