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"By means of the watchman who had the charge of me," replied Thames. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. I can never be grateful enough. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it.
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