"Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. F. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. Then go and fetch this daughter of yourn.
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