He went over her features one by one in his mind. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. Herculis was a port city on the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from where the manor had been. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam.
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