” She controlled a sob. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. " "We shall see," rejoined Jonathan, turning carelessly upon his heel. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages.
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