raved like a guilty man.
He foresaw weeks and weeks of this yet to come with fresh humiliations
daily and added pain; if he gave way already what would become of him
in the end? How could he hope to keep his manhood? A blank terror
faced him.

The sound of the key in the lock brought him springing to his feet.
None of them should see him weaken again! With trembling hands he put
his pipe in his mouth, and lighted it nonchalantly.

It was Emslie with his supper.

"Playing waiter, eh?" drawled Ambrose. "You fellows have to be
everything from grooms to chambermaids, don't you?"

Young Emslie stared, and grew red. "What's the matter with you?" he
demanded.

"A man must have a little entertainment," said Ambrose. "I'm forced to
get it out of you. You don't know how funny you are, Emslie."

"You'd best be civil!" growled the policeman.

"Why?" drawled out Ambrose. "You've got to keep a hold on yourself
whatever I say to you. It's regulations. Man to man I could lick you
with ease!"

"By gad!" began Emslie. Very red in the face, he turned on his heel,
and went out slamming the door.

Ambrose laughed, and felt a little better. Only by allowing his bitter
pain some such outlet was he able to endure it.

Disregarding the supper, he strode up and down his prison, planning in
his despair how he would harden himself to steel. No longer would he
suffer in silence. To the last hour he'd swagger and jeer.

These red-coats were stiff-necked and dull-witted; he could have rare
fun with them.

He saw himself in the court-room keeping the crowd in a roar with his
outrageous gibes. And if at the last he swung--he'd step off with a
jest that would live in history!

The key turned in the lock again. He swung around ready with an insult
for his jailer.

Colina stood in the doorway.

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE JAIL VISITOR.

The light was behind Colina, and Ambrose could not at first read her
expression. There was something changed in her aspect; her chin was
not carried so high.

She was wearing a plain blue linen dress, and her hair was done low
over her ears. Colina was one of the women who unconsciously dress to
suit their moods.

She looked different now, but she was indisputably Colina.

The sight of her dear shape caused him the same old shock of
astonishment. All the blood seemed to forsake his heart; he put a hand
against the wall behind him for support.

He presently distinguished change