"Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. "One last embrace.
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