“MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. Such revelations she hoped would be considered out of place and inappropriate. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is.
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