The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. . ” He complained, handing it, case and all, to Lucy. “He does not come here,” she exclaimed, quickly. Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. Would to God I had. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. ’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal.
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