"I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. . ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious.
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