here it was I accepted you for my
wife, and here it is therefore that Love lies Deepest!"

"Oh my dear!" groans Beatrice heavily, "Lawrence, here is what I was
going to have given you at the French Inn," and she presses a pair of
gold links into his dying hand.

He smiles back at her and says "keep them darling as a remembrance of
me."

Beatrice's only answer is a wild kiss, the last Lawrence will ever
receive, the memory of which follows him to Eternity, the next minute he
falls back with a groan.

Beatrice stands for a rigid moment and then falls prone beside the bed.

And there is only one in all this wide world who knows for certain if
Lawrence Cathcart died a happy death.

THE END

THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER

PART I

CHAPTER 1

PROLOGUE

John Winston had entered into manhood with every prospect of a bright
and brilliant future.

His parents had died leaving him a nice little legacy and a great deal
of land for farming But with all this good fortune, things did not seem
to go right with him.

To begin with, he was idle and did not care for farming, so he let land
waste away till it was good for nothing, and was forced to sell it. He
then encountered a severe loss of money, and by degrees sank lower and
lower in the world till he at last found himself a penniless man with
barely enough to keep a roof over his head.

His only resourse then was marriage. There were plenty of rich girls
about whose parents would be glad to find a suitable husband for them.
John Winston was suitable enough, for he was good looking, witty, and
had a certain amount of good sense; but his kind heart would not allow
him to fall in love with these girls merely on account of their riches,
so had to look out for someone he really loved.

During these explorations he met Helen Carline, a young girl, poor, and
with no relations in the world. She was wondrously pretty with a
profusion of fluffy golden hair and sad blue eyes which spoke all their
thoughts.

Of course John Winston fell in love with her at once and proposed
accordingly. After a little hesitation she accepted and John Winston's
joy was beautiful to witness.

The married couple took a little cottage on the outskirts of the Malvern
Hills and engaged one servant Jane Marshland, by name, about whom we
shall hear more later on.

In the spring of the following year a little girl was born as a crowning
joy to the young husband and wife.

But thre