In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. There were three exit doors. " "A friend is not so soon gained as lost," replied Wood; "but how has the prediction been fulfilled, Joan, eh?" "I thought you would have guessed, Sir," replied the widow, timidly. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest.
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