ars of her dungeon window."

"With a difference surely! Marat's murderess gloried in her crime; an
innocent prisoner languishes yonder, in that stone cage beyond the
river."

Mr. Dunbar pointed over the billowing sea of green tree tops, toward an
irregular dark shadow that blurred the northern sky line; and his eagle
eyes darkened as they discerned the prison outlines.

"Did you ever see a sketch of Rossetti's 'Pandora'?" asked Prince.

"No."

"The face is somewhat like that young prisoner's; the same mystical,
prescient melancholy in the wide eyes, as if she realized she was
predestine to work woe. I am heartily glad I was spared the pain of the
prosecution, for had I been here, compassion would almost have
paralyzed the effort to secure justice; and now, while my loss is
irreparable, the law insures punishment for father's wrongs. As I walk
about this dear old place, which he intended I should possess, and
recall all that we had planned, it seems hard indeed that I find myself
so unable to execute his wishes. After a few days, when I shall leave
it, I suppose that for the next five years the house will become an owl
roost and den of bats and spiders. On Thursday I go temporarily to
Charleston to visit my uncle, Doctor Thornton, who offers me a place in
his office, and a home at his hearthstone."

"Why specifically for five years?"

"That is the term of her imprisonment. At the expiration of her
sentence, I presume Gen. Darringtor's grand-daughter will hasten to
take possession of her dearly-bought domain."

A derisive smile unbent the tight lines of the lawyer's mouth.

"Come here to live? She would sooner spring into the jaws of hell!"

Prince Darrington's large light eyes opened wide, in a questioning
stare.

"If she is innocent, as you believe, why should she shrink from
occupying the family homestead? If she be guilty, which I (having seen
her) cannot credit, there is no probability that remorseful scruples
would influence her. No conceivable contingency can ever again make it
my home, and on Thursday I go away forever."

"That which a man claims and expects, generally deserts and betrays
him; it is the unforeseen, the unexpected that comes in the form of
benediction. Time is the master magician, and 'Tout went a qui sait
attendre'. Kittie may yet trail her velvet robe as chatelaine through
these noble old halls and galleries. Come to my office at ten o'clock
tomorrow; I may have an answer to my