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It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly altered tone, “I hope, I trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one here?” “I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. But she did not believe he would do that. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. 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 did not have to investigate that his door was locked. You disgust me. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me.
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