"No—nothing left but _that_," she murmured, awaking from her temporary stupefaction: "nothing—nothing!" And although these words were uttered in the lowest whisper, still it seemed as if she shrieked them _within herself_. Then she hurried from the court. "The river—or the Monument," she said, as she continued her rapid way: "the river is near—but the Monument is nearer. Drowning must be slow and painful—_the other_ will be instantaneous. From the river I might be rescued; but no human power can snatch me from death during a fall from that dizzy height." And she glanced upwards to the colossal pillar whose base she had now reached. At that moment two men, evidently belonging to the working classes, passed her. A portion of their conversation met her ears. "And so she was not his sister, then?" said one. "No such thing," replied the other. "I heard the governor of Newgate tell all about it to one of the City officers scarcely half an hour ago. The governor was coming out of a lawyer's house—Tracy's lawyer, I believe—and the City officer was waiting for him at the door. He then told him that it was a lady of fashion—with a name something like Cecilia Scarborough, I think——" The men were now too far for the wretched woman to hear any more of their conversation. "Merciful heavens!" she said, scarcely able to prevent herself from wringing her hands; "even at this moment I am not safe!" Then, without farther hesitation, she passed round the base of the Monument, and crossed the threshold. "Sixpence, if you please, ma'am," said the man who received the fees from visitors. Lady Cecilia exercised an almost superhuman power over her distracted feelings, so as to appear composed, while she drew forth the coin from her purse. "It's a fine day to view London, ma'am," said the man, as he took the money. "Beautiful," answered Cecilia. She then began the tedious ascent. And now what awful emotions laboured in her breast as she toiled up that winding staircase. "My God! my God!" she murmured to herself; "is it indeed come to this?" Once she was compelled to stop and lean against the wall for support. Then she wrung her hands in agony—indescribable agony of mind. "And yet there is no alternative!" she thought; "none—none! But my mother—my poor mother! what will be her feelings? Oh! better to know that I am dead, than an inmate of Newgate!" And, somewhat encouraged in her dreadful purpose by this idea, she pursued her way. In a few moments the fresh air blew in her face. She was near the top! A dozen more steps—and the brilliant sun-light burst upon her eyes. It was indeed a lovely morning; and the Thames appeared like a huge serpent of quicksilver, meandering its way amidst the myriads of buildings that stretched on either side, far as the eye could reach. The din of the huge city reached the ears of the wretched woman who now stood upon that tremendous eminence. All was life—bustle—business—activity below!