Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. The youthful couple had been seated in the carriage a few minutes when they were joined by Mr. But, taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forced back the bolt. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast.
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