She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. " She showed him the locket; and he studied the face. “Not much. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. You know how stubborn they get. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. ’ ‘Was. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. Wiped out, but for these. "I see him!—row for your life!" "That's the way to miss him, master," replied Ben coolly. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet.
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