Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold.
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