and looked the picture of guilty, hopeless woe. Suddenly he heard a footstep outside his door; it was like the step of a soldier; he heard the clanking sound of the spur. A key grated in the door, and it was opened by the turnkey; behind him strode in a tall dark figure: the latter person took the lamp from the turnkey, and ordering him in a low voice to come back in half an hour, bade him quit the cell. The door was again locked, the key turned, and the two alone in the prison. L'Estrange knew who it was, he felt an instinct that told him it was--it could be--no other than the Captain. He could not see him, though he was aware he was seen by the dark lantern. Just then a tremendous flash lit up the prison, and distinctly showed him he was right in his surmise; it was the Captain. He waited till the crackling peal ceased, and then said in a light voice: "Hallo, Ned, how are you, old fellow? why damme, prison fare doesn't seem to agree with you, you are as white as a ghost; cheer up, old fellow, I am come to rescue you!" "Prison thoughts are worse than its fare. I am a different man since I have been here so long." "Egad, you haven't turned blue, have you? Why, bless my soul, you spoke just like old Power, or some such snivelling Puritan. Come, get rid of all this nonsense, and listen to me. I have come to get you clear of these quarters. Egad they don't agree with one; faugh! how close this cell is; you must get out, and breathe the fresh air." "I am resolved to abide the worst, Captain; thanks for all your trouble; I will be tried, condemned, and hung; the world will wag on just the same when I am gone." "Trash--who the devil has put this nonsense into your brains? Has the parson been here? You are right, by G--! a week in prison has changed you a bit, I am d--d if I'd know you to be the same fellow! You sit moping like a girl under sentence of death for murdering her child! Come, cheer up; I tell you this air is bad for any one. Egad, it is making me feel quite devout. Oh! d-- that accursed thunderstorm"--as a brilliant flash blazed through the cell--"hark at the rain, you and I will have a wet night of it." "Is it not like the voice of God calling us to account for our wickedness?" "The voice of the devil! why I swear you must set up gaol chaplain. What in the name of Heaven has put such ideas into your brainpan? a common bout of thunder the voice of God,--anything else?" "Blaspheme not! leave me to my fate--hanging is too good for me; you brought me to this--" "And I'll bring you out of it again, one good turn deserves another! Do you think I am as great a fool as yourself? What hangs you hangs me also, and I am not so jolly tired of life as you are just now. Wait till you are out of this cursed hole, and you will get like yourself again; life is too sweet to be thrown away like a coat!"