" "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford. Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn. . " The lad made no answer, but left the room. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. Besides, didn't I tell you that I giv' him as good as he brought—and better! I jist touched him with my 'Evenin' Star,' as I call this shillelah," said the watchman, flourishing an immense bludgeon, the knob of which appeared to be loaded with lead, "and, by Saint Patrick! down he cum'd like a bullock. "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot.
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