"I am—I am!" cried the widow, snatching the babe, and pressing it to her breast with rapturous delight "God be thanked, I have found it!" "We have both good reason to be grateful," added the lady, with great emotion. ' So I go to Patagonia. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. Within forty-eight hours the girl would be on her way east and the boy see-sawing the South China Sea, for ever moving at absolute angles. Blueskin will go with you,—for fear of a mistake. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem.
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