tered the
doctor.

"No doubt duty called her to much worse places; therefore, when she
died, the angels buried her on Sinai," answered the prisoner; before
whose wistful eyes drifted the memory of Luini's picture.

"You have set your heart on this; nothing less will content you?"

"While the necessity continues, nothing less will content me."

"Remember, you voluntarily take your life in your own hands."

"I assume the entire responsibility for any risk incurred."

"Then, I wish you God speed; for the harvest is white, the laborers
few."

"Why, doctor! I relied on you to help me keep her out of reach. If
anything happens, how shall I pacify Susie? She made me promise every
possible care of her favorite. Look here, only an hour ago I received a
letter and this package marked, 'One for Ned; the other for Miss
Beryl.' Two little red flannel safety bags, cure-alls, to be tied
around our necks, close to our noses, as if we could not smell them a
half mile off? Assafoetida, garlic, camphor, 'jimson weed,' valerian
powder--phew! What not? Mixed as a voudoo chowder, and a scent twice as
loud!"

"Be thankful your wife is not here to enforce the wearing of the
sanitary sachet," said the doctor, allowing himself a grimace of
contemptuous disgust.

"So I am! but being a bachelor, answerable only to yourself, you cannot
understand how absence does not exonerate me from the promise made when
she started away. I would sooner face an 'army with banners,' than that
little brown-eyed woman of mine when she takes the lapel of my coat in
one hand, raises the forefinger of the other, turns her head sideways
like a thrush watching a wriggling worm, and says, in a voice that
rises as fast as the sound a mouse makes racing up the treble of the
piano keys: 'Ump! whew! Didn't I tell you so? The minute my back was
turned, of course you made ducks and drakes of all your promises. Show
me a "Flying Jenney," that the tip end of any idiot's little finger can
spin around, and I'll christen it Edward McTwaddle Singleton!' Seems
funny to you, doctor? Just wait till you are married, and your Susan
shuts the door and interviews you, picking a whole flock of crows, till
you wonder if it isn't raining black feathers. When I am taken to taw
about this nursing business, I shall lose no time in laying the blame
on you."

"I will assure Mrs. Singleton that you endeavored to dissuade me; and
that you faithfully kept your promise to shield me from da