Thames Darrell MUST die. After listening attentively for a short time without drawing breath, he became convinced that his apprehensions were groundless, and, greatly relieved, sat down upon the chair to rest himself and prepare for further efforts. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. After I took the bills it was too late to turn back. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. ‘Caught her sneaking after that Valade fellow.
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