at was in my heart---- No, it's just as well! It's just as
well!"

"Time's up!" said the warder.

"Let me stay a little longer," pleaded Mary.

"Against rules!" was the reply. "Time's up!"

"Paul, lean down your head again."

She kissed him passionately, and then whispered in his ear: "All hope's
not gone even yet, Paul."

"I want no King's Pardon," said Paul almost bitterly. "I wouldn't have
it!"

"It's not that. I have been trying and trying, and my father has been
trying----"

"You mean----"

"I mean that he's with us at Brunford, Paul. He's at your house. He
has been working night and day, and, and----"

The warder opened the door. "This way, please, Miss!"

"Don't give up, Paul!" she cried. "And remember this, I'm working and
praying for you, and father is working and praying for you. It
may--oh! it may end in nothing; and I dare not say more, but Paul,
Paul----"

Again Paul was alone. Mary's kisses were still warm upon his lips. He
felt her breath upon his face. Her presence pervaded the room even
although she was gone--Mary, whom he loved like his own life! It was
not as though his sister had been to see him at all. It was still
Mary, the woman he loved as his wife!

Day followed day, and no further news reached him. Eagerly he had
listened to every echoing footstep in the corridor. Feverishly he had
watched the face of the warder who had brought him food. Like one who
had hoped against hope, he had at stated times scanned the faces of
other prisoners when he had been allowed to go for exercise into the
prison yard. But he heard nothing, saw nothing which could give him
hope.

One night the chaplain entered his cell, and Paul saw, from the look on
the man's face, of what he was thinking.

"It's to be to-morrow, isn't it?" he said.

The chaplain nodded and was silent.

"What o'clock is it now?"

"Half-past three."

"And what time to-morrow?"

"Early. I don't know the exact hour."

"Is it known outside--I mean, does the world know?"

"I don't know; I expect so."

"Ah," said Paul. "She will come to-night; so will he. But mother
cannot come--no, of course she cannot come; but I am glad she knows
nothing."

"My brother," said the chaplain, "may I not speak to you about higher
things? Remember that in a few hours----"

"Stop!" said Paul. "It's good of you to come, and I'm afraid that in
the past I've sometimes spoken rudely to you. I have regarded you as
on