The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. " "I'm satisfied with your assurance," replied the carpenter, drily. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. E.
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