“Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. "I know the hand—ha! my friend! and I have murdered him! And my sister was thus nobly, thus illustriously wedded. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen.
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