Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. Horrible doubts assailed her.
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