He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. “To tell you the truth, I am a little dull. Wild is sure to be up. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. “All the time he is shouting and muttering. "I don't know his name.
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