In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. ' That has always haunted me. The inn was a military haunt. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. " "I'd rather lie here for ever, than be indebted to you for my freedom," returned Thames. I don’t believe in the faults. "Well?" he whispered. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. . She sings better perhaps.
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