"I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. Mr. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Nothing seemed to be amiss. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “He will probably make a statement to-night. She had always loved babies, like you! We ran away to the Barbars, back then, the land of the barbarian North.
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