This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. “I am going to ask for your forgiveness. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. Only her babe died. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her.
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