money might be made to minister in this way to his comfort,
his happiness, and even his restoration to health!

Full of this idea, she advanced a step or two, and sought for a proper
place on the one table in the room, in which she might put her packet of
money.

While she was thus engaged, an old newspaper, with some hair lying in
it, caught her eye. The hair was Zack's and was left to be thrown away;
having been cut off that very morning by the doctor, who thought that
enough had not been removed from the neighborhood of the wound by the
barber originally employed to clear the hair from the injured side of
the patient's head. Madonna had hardly looked at the newspaper before
she recognized the hair in it as Zack's by its light-brown color, and by
the faint golden tinge running through it. One little curly lock, lying
rather apart from the rest, especially allured her eyes; she longed to
take it as a keepsake--a keepsake which Zack would never know that she
possessed! For a moment she hesitated, and in that moment the longing
became an irresistible temptation. After glancing over her shoulder to
assure herself that no one had followed her upstairs, she took the lock
of hair, and quickly hid it away in her bosom.

Her eyes had assured her that there was no one in the room; but, if she
had not been deprived of the sense of hearing, she would have known that
persons were approaching it, by the sound of voices on the stairs--a
man's voice being among them. Necessarily ignorant, however, of this,
she advanced unconcernedly, after taking the lock of hair, from the
table to the chimney-piece, which it struck her might be the safest
place to leave the money on. She had just put it down there, when she
felt the slight concussion caused by the opening and closing of the door
behind her; and turning round instantly, confronted Patty, the landlady,
and the strange swarthy-faced friend of Zack's, who had made her a
present of the scarlet tobacco-pouch.

Terror and confusion almost overpowered her, as she saw him advance to
the chimney-piece and take up the packet she had just placed there. He
had evidently opened the room-door in time to see her put it down; and
he was now deliberately unfolding the paper and examining the money
inside.

While he was thus occupied, Patty came close up to her, and, with rather
a confused and agitated face, began writing on her slate, much faster
and much less correctly than usual. She gathered