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“MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. “You!” said Ann Veronica. This girl was strong and vital: how would she take it when she learned that she had cast her lot with a fugitive from justice? For McClintock was certain that Spurlock was a hunted man. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. Mac's. ‘I don’t propose doing anything with you. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. My little maidservant will think that I am lost.

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