He was caked with dried muck. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. "I've known him all my life," replied the other. "While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. It is a cheering reflection, that in the present prison, with its clean, wellwhitewashed, and well-ventilated wards, its airy courts, its infirmary, its improved regulations, and its humane and intelligent officers, many of the miseries of the old jail are removed. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it.
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