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" "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. "I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. \"Word gets round. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. "'A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
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