ddered
away from him.

As she gathered the cloak round her shoulders again, there was a noise
of heavy feet at the door.

The jailer thrust in his rusty head and looked furtively from the
prisoner to his visitor as they stood silently apart from each other;
then, making a sign to some one whose dark figure was shadowed behind
him without, entered with a hesitating sidelong step, and, drawing
Captain Jack on one side, whispered in his ear.

"The blacksmith's yonder. He's come to measure you, captain, for them
there irons you know of--best get the lady quietly away, for he wunnut
wait no longer."

The prisoner smiled sternly.

"I am ready," he said, aloud.

"I'll keep him outside a minute or two," added the man, wiping his
brow, evidently much relieved by his charge's calmness. "I kep' him
back as long as I could--but happen it's allus best to hurry the
parting after all."

He moved away upon tiptoe, in instinctive tribute to the lady's
sorrow, and drew the door to.

Molly threw back her veil which she had lowered upon his entrance, her
face was livid.

"What is it?" she asked, articulating with difficulty.

"Nothing--a fellow to see to my irons."

He moved his hands as he spoke, and she understood him, as he had
hoped, to refer only to his manacles.

She drew a gasping breath. How they watched him! Yet all was not lost
after all.

"I will leave the file," she said, in a quick whisper; "you will
reflect; there is yet to-morrow," and rushed to hide it in his bed.
But he caught her by the arm, his patience worn out at length.

"Useless," he answered, harshly. "I shall not use it. Moreover, it
would be found, and I am sure it is not your wish to bring unnecessary
hardship upon my last moments. I should lose the only thing that is
left to me, the comfort of being alone. And to-morrow I shall see no
one."

The door groaned apart:

"Very sorry, mum," came the husky voice in the opening, "Time's up."

She turned a look of agony upon Captain Jack's determined figure. Was
this to be the end? Was she to leave him so, without even one kind
word?

Alas, poor soul! All her hopes had fallen to this--a parting word.

He was unpitying; his arms were folded; he made no sign.

She took a step away and swayed; the turnkey came forward
compassionately to lead her out. But the next instant she wheeled
round and stood alone and erect, braced up by the extremity of her
anguish.

"I _have_ a message," she cried, as