y sunken in the mud, and barred them with a heavy beam. That
done, he shook his matted hair from about his eyes, and tried
them.--Strong and fast.

'The fence between this wharf and the next is easily climbed,' said the
dwarf, when he had taken these precautions. 'There's a back lane, too,
from there. That shall be my way out. A man need know his road well,
to find it in this lovely place to-night. I need fear no unwelcome
visitors while this lasts, I think.'

Almost reduced to the necessity of groping his way with his hands (it
had grown so dark and the fog had so much increased), he returned to
his lair; and, after musing for some time over the fire, busied himself
in preparations for a speedy departure.

While he was collecting a few necessaries and cramming them into his
pockets, he never once ceased communing with himself in a low voice, or
unclenched his teeth, which he had ground together on finishing Miss
Brass's note.

'Oh Sampson!' he muttered, 'good worthy creature--if I could but hug
you! If I could only fold you in my arms, and squeeze your ribs, as I
COULD squeeze them if I once had you tight--what a meeting there would
be between us! If we ever do cross each other again, Sampson, we'll
have a greeting not easily to be forgotten, trust me. This time,
Sampson, this moment when all had gone on so well, was so nicely
chosen! It was so thoughtful of you, so penitent, so good. Oh, if we
were face to face in this room again, my white-livered man of law, how
well contented one of us would be!'

There he stopped; and raising the bowl of punch to his lips, drank a
long deep draught, as if it were fair water and cooling to his parched
mouth. Setting it down abruptly, and resuming his preparations, he
went on with his soliloquy.

'There's Sally,' he said, with flashing eyes; 'the woman has spirit,
determination, purpose--was she asleep, or petrified? She could have
stabbed him--poisoned him safely. She might have seen this coming on.
Why does she give me notice when it's too late? When he sat
there,--yonder there, over there,--with his white face, and red head,
and sickly smile, why didn't I know what was passing in his heart? It
should have stopped beating, that night, if I had been in his secret,
or there are no drugs to lull a man to sleep, or no fire to burn him!'

Another draught from the bowl; and, cowering over the fire with a
ferocious aspect, he muttered to himself again.

'And this,