The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. As Blueskin still continued obstinate, the judgment appointed to be executed upon such prisoners as stood mute, was then read. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday.
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