"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. When Mr. Spurling had retired for the night. Besides those who conducted themselves more peaceably, the conductors of the procession noticed with considerable uneasiness, large bands of men armed with staves, bludgeons, and other weapons, who were flying across the field in the same direction. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. " "Your's will be nearer the truth, and have a deeper moral, Mr. Though," said the thieftaker, with a complacent smile, "all the world seems to tremble at it. .
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