In spite of his shrieks, the miserable Jew was then dragged into the wellhole, and the rope being tied round his neck, he was launched from the bridge. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. This is your moment.
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