“My dear sweet Lucia. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. I can remove the prisoner at any hour of the night I think fit: and I will remove him. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. ’ She raised the pistol. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna.
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