He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. Be so good as to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in the face. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. ‘Mademoiselle, there is a way to win to freedom and prosperity. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing.
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