” “We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I have often taken my own sisters. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. For a few minutes, Darrell seemed to have the advantage in the conflict. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. “I always shall.
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