A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day. That's the way it goes. “Thank you. ’ She bit her lip, frowning.
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