r trembling
eyelids and working mouth, I was about to wake her when I was stopped by
the gentle touch of Miss Althorpe on my shoulder.

"Is she the girl you are looking for?"

I gave one quick glance around the room, and my eyes lighted on the
little blue pin-cushion on the satin-wood bureau.

"Did you put those pins there?" I asked, pointing to a dozen or more
black pins grouped in one corner.

"_I_ did not, no; and I doubt if Crescenze did. Why?"

I drew a small black pin from my belt where I had securely fastened it,
and carrying it over to the cushion, compared it with those I saw. They
were identical.

"A small matter," I inwardly decided, "but it points in the right
direction"; then, in answer to Miss Althorpe, added aloud: "I fear she
is. At least I have seen no reason yet for doubting it. But I must make
sure. Will you allow me to wake her?"

"O it seems cruel! She is suffering enough already. See how she twists
and turns!"

"It will be a mercy, it seems to me, to rouse her from dreams so full of
pain and trouble."

"Perhaps, but I will leave you alone to do it. What will you say to her?
How account for your intrusion?"

"O I will find means, and they won't be too cruel either. You had better
stand back by the bureau and listen. I think I had rather not have the
responsibility of doing this thing alone."

Miss Althorpe, not understanding my hesitation, and only half
comprehending my errand, gave me a doubtful look but retreated to the
spot I had mentioned, and whether it was the rustle of her silk dress or
whether the dream of the girl we were watching had reached its climax, a
momentary stir took place in the outstretched form before me, and next
moment she was flinging up her hands with a cry.

"O how can I touch her! She is dead, and I have never touched a dead
body."

I fell back breathing hard, and Miss Althorpe's eyes, meeting mine, grew
dark with horror. Indeed she was about to utter a cry herself, but I
made an imperative motion, and she merely shrank farther away towards
the door.

Meantime I had bent forward and laid my hand on the trembling figure
before me.

"Miss Oliver," I said, "rouse yourself, I pray. I have a message for you
from Mrs. Desberger."

She turned her head, looked at me like a person in a daze, then slowly
moved and sat up.

"Who are you?" she asked, surveying me and the space about her with
eyes which seemed to take in nothing till they lit upon Miss Althorpe'