On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. He is delightful, is he not?’ ‘That will do, Lucilla. “I do hope you will see how things are, and not be offended with me or frightfully shocked and distressed by what I have done. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. It was open. "If there is any honour in you, stop and think.
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