rms impulsively about her in a warm embrace without completing her
sentence.

"It is good of you to come," said Miss Metoaca, touched by Mrs.
Arnold's greeting. "I--I--was feeling very downhearted."

"And no wonder," purred Mrs. Bennett, wiping her eyes with a dainty
handkerchief. "You have borne a great deal, Miss Metoaca, and have our
deepest sympathy."

"You crocodile," thought the spinster, as she said aloud: "It is cruel,
cruel! Nancy never committed that crime, _never_."

Mrs. Arnold and her friend exchanged doubtful glances.

"Have you been allowed to see your niece?" inquired the latter, as Mrs.
Arnold seemed at a loss for words.

"No; and I am convinced the food and clothes I send her never get past
the inspector's office."

"Have you appealed to the President?"

"Have I?" Miss Metoaca's tone was eloquent. "I have tormented that poor
man nearly to death."

"Did he give you no comfort?" asked Mrs. Arnold. "Usually President
Lincoln is only too anxious to sign pardons."

"He doesn't seem to be in this instance," dryly. "He insists that an
open trial will be the best thing for Nancy. 'Murder is evil,' he said;
'evil cannot stand discussion. The more the mystery is discussed the
quicker you will discover clues leading to the murderer. What kills the
skunk is the publicity it gives itself. What a skunk wants to do is to
keep snug under the barn--in the daytime--when men are around with
shotguns.'"

"Is Sam working for you now?" inquired Mrs. Arnold, after a slight
pause.

"Sam!" echoed Miss Metoaca, her surprise causing her to raise her
voice.

Seeing Mrs. Arnold was flurried by the apparent effect of her innocent
remark on Miss Metoaca, Mrs. Bennett answered for her.

"My husband and I met Nancy conversing with the negro Sam, about six
o'clock on the afternoon that Captain Lloyd--ah--died." Miss Metoaca
was intently studying the speaker's face, but she could learn nothing
from the innocent blue eyes raised so confidingly to hers. "Nancy told
us then that Sam, who has often waited on me, was anxious to secure a
place in a private family...."

"And so," broke in Mrs. Arnold, "as I am in need of another
man-servant, I came to inquire about Sam."

"Now that is too bad," exclaimed Miss Metoaca, rallying her wits to her
aid. "I wish I had known before that you needed a servant, Mrs. Arnold.
Sam came to me and asked me to find him a place, so I sent him over to
my cousin, Mrs. Hillen, in Baltimore, a