Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. ” They heard a man’s voice outside. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. She must weigh her situation. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr.
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