ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. " "You did right," returned Trenchard. I hated him. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. “Excuse me a moment.
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