A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. “Soul to soul. Perhaps what I need is something to bite in. " "Funny, about that coat. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. " "'No doubt,'" said Wood, who had again turned over the leaves of the sacred volume—', "no doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the seas, yet vengeance suffereth not to live'. Let us proceed with our tale. You know I am in love with you.
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