outlandish name?"

"Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. "He's the famous Dutch conjuror who
foretold King William's accident and death, last February but one, a
month before either event happened, and gave out that another prince
over the water would soon enjoy his own again; for which he was
committed to Newgate, and whipped at the cart's tail. He went by another
name then,--Rykhart Scherprechter I think he called himself. His
fellow-prisoners nicknamed him the gallows-provider, from a habit he had
of picking out all those who were destined to the gibbet. He was never
known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jail-fever in consequence.
He singled out my poor husband from a crowd of other felons; and you
know how right he was in that case, Sir."

"Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did
not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to
predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he
might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of
the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. "What did the old
fellow judge from, eh, Joan?" asked he.

"From a black mole under the child's right ear, shaped like a coffin,
which is a bad sign; and a deep line just above the middle of the left
thumb, meeting round about in the form of a noose, which is a worse,"
replied Mrs. Sheppard. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little
thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in
Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever
finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping
or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible
visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir--but,