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After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. I pledged my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager if I lost; and I should like to be as good as my word. Her back arched slightly in response. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. Of course this thing was absolutely impossible. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. Re-issued with new cover October 2013.
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