"Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. " "Fooled or not," returned Mrs. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom.
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