” “Cooped up!” he cried. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. I packed so hurriedly that it will take me a long time to find my things. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself.
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