" "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. ’ ‘That is not your affair. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. “And then they are swollen up and inflamed and drunken with matter.
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