He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. The first of these, the Press Room, a dark close chamber, near Waterman's Hall, obtained its name from an immense wooden machine kept in it, with which such prisoners as refused to plead to their indictments were pressed to death—a species of inquisitorial torture not discontinued until so lately as the early part of the reign of George the Third, when it was abolished by an express statute. You hurt the child. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. ‘Not kill me, I mean.
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