“I have come, Miss Mary,” as Timms now called his client, “on what I fear will prove a useless errand; but which I have thought it my duty to see performed, as your best friend, and one of your legal advisers. You have already heard what I had to say on the subject of a certain proposal of the next of kin to withdraw from the prosecution, which will carry with him this Williams, with whom I should think you would, by this time, be heartily disgusted. I come now to say that this offer is repeated with a good deal of emphasis, and that you have still an opportunity of lessening the force that is pressing on your interests, by at least one-half. Williams may well count for more than half of the vigour and shrewdness of what is doing for the State in your case.” “The proposal must be more distinctly made, and you must let me have a clear view of what is expected from me, Mr. Timms, before I can give any reply,” said Mary Monson. “But you may wish to be alone with me before you are more explicit. I will order my woman to go into the cell.” “It might be more prudent were we to go into the cell ourselves, and leave your domestic outside. These galleries carry sounds like ear-trumpets; and we never know who may be our next neighbour in a gaol.” Mary Monson quietly assented to the proposal, calling to her woman in French to remain outside, in the dark, while she profited by the light of the lamp in the cell. Timms followed, and closed the door. In size, form, and materials, the cell of Mary Monson was necessarily like that of every other inmate of the gaol. Its sides, top and bottom, were of massive stones; the two last being flags of great dimensions. But taste and money had converted even this place into an apartment that was comfortable in all respects but that of size. Two cells opening on the section of gallery that the consideration of Mrs. Gott had caused to be screened off, and appropriated to the exclusive use of the fair prisoner, one had been furnished as a sleeping apartment, while that in which Timms was now received had more the air of a sort of _boudoir_. It was well carpeted, like all the rest of what might be termed the suite; and had a variety of those little elegancies that women of cultivated tastes and ample means are almost certain to gather about them. The harp which had occasioned so much scandal, as well as a guitar, stood near by; and chairs of different forms and various degrees of comfort, crowded the room, perhaps to superfluity. As this was the first time Timms had been admitted to the cell, he was all eyes, gazing about him at the numerous signs of wealth it contained, with inward satisfaction. It was a minute after he was desired to be seated before he could comply, so lively was the curiosity to be appeased. It was during this minute that Marie Moulin lighted four candles, that were already arranged in bronzed candlesticks, making a blaze of light for that small room.