of thy crime."

"It is no crime, but an acceptable deed, to deliver a criminal to
justice, to suffer for his deserts. On such conditions, and on such
only, can I promise immunity for thyself."

"Justice! I trust not the justice of a State, where such as thou bear
rule. Ye know not the meaning of the word. Sacred heaven! what would
you have me do? Betray into your toils an innocent man, that I may
avoid, I know not what consequences! Infamous tempter, I spurn thee!
And know, that were I capable of such inexpressible shame, I could not
commit it. I know not where is Sir Christopher."

But, evidently, Spikeman placed no confidence in the denial. He strode
across the room, as though reflecting on some subject, and then
stepping up to the lady, bent over, and whispered some inaudible words
into her ear.

"It is false. Holy Virgin!" she exclaimed, forgetting herself in the
excitement of feeling, "must I bear this? Leave me! leave me! Rid me
of your hateful presence! The room is full of horrid shapes since you
came in."

"Ha! madam," cried Spikeman, "you have betrayed yourself. I have your
secret, and will find means to force you to speak the truth, ere I am
quit of you," and scowling malignantly, he left the apartment.

The excitement which had hitherto sustained the lady, seemed now to
desert her, and she sunk upon a seat. Sobs broke from her bosom, and
tears, which she vainly tried to restrain, streamed down her cheeks.

"O, holy Virgin," she murmured--"immaculate lady, whose heart was
pierced with so many sorrows, help me to bear my own. This is the
sorest trial of all. Without thy preventing grace, divine Mary, I
shall sink under it. Intercede with thy dear son for me."

The little Indian girl, who, during the whole time while Spikeman
remained, had stood by the lady's side, showing no apprehension
whatever, but listening attentively to every word, and following each
motion with her keen eyes, now kneeled down by the lady, and looking
into her face, said--

"Do not cry, lady. Owanux have not found the book with the pretty
pictures, nor the man with the sweet face, with his eyes shut, and his
head falling on one side, upon his shoulder, who makes Neebin feel
like crying when she looks at him; and Sir Christopher is gone away,
so that they cannot catch him."

"Dear Neebin," said the lady, "thine are timely words of consolation.
Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," she added, looking up, "dost
thou ordain s