” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. "Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears.
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