It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. The lad hesitated. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. The doctor nodded. ” He too rose. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. Without her, it was lonely. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan.
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