He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. " "Is that all!" retorted Jonathan. ” They heard a man’s voice outside. Now," he added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, "help me on with them. . But, feeling secure of vengeance, he determined to abide his time. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. “That is your sister’s name.
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