The Well Hole 336 XIII. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. Every one else does. "My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a job. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill.
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