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ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. She heard their feet and muffled voices. He believes that he is leaving this conscience behind; and I want to watch his disillusion on this particular point.
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