rway, looked long at the young
girl upon the bed. She lay in sound, motionless sleep, one hand
beneath her cheek, her heavy hair, scarcely revealing its auburn hue in
the gloom of the interior, flowing in wild disorder across the crushed
pillow. He stepped to the single window and drew down the green shade,
gazed at her again, a new look of tenderness softening his stern face,
then went softly out and closed the door.

An hour later he was still sitting on the hard chair by the window, a
cigar between his teeth, thinking. The lowering sun was pouring a
perfect flood of gold across the rag carpet, but he remained utterly
unconscious as to aught save the gloomy trend of his own awakened
memories. Some one rapped upon the outer door.

"Come in," he exclaimed, carelessly, and barely glancing up. "Well,
what is it this time, Mrs. Guffy?"

The landlady had never before seen this usually happy guest in his
present mood, and she watched him curiously.

"A man wants ter see ye," she announced, shortly, her hand on the knob.

"Oh, I'm in no shape for play to-night; go back and tell him so."

"Sure, an' it's aisy 'nough ter see thet wid half an eye. But this un
isn't thet koind of a man, an' he's so moighty perlite about it Oi jist
cud n't sind the loikes of him away. It's 'Missus Guffy, me dear
madam, wud ye be koind enough to convey me complimints to Misther
Robert Hampton, and requist him to grant me a few minutes of his toime
on an important matter?' Sure, an' what do ye think of thet?"

"Huh! one of those fellows who had these rooms?" and Hampton rose to
his feet with animation.

The landlady lowered her voice to an almost inaudible whisper.

"It's the Reverend Howard Wynkoop," she announced, impressively,
dwelling upon the name. "The Reverend Howard Wynkoop, the Prasbytarian
Missionary--wouldn't thet cork ye?"

It evidently did, for Mr. Hampton stared at her for fully a minute in
an amazement too profound for fit expression in words. Then he
swallowed something in his throat.

"Show the gentleman up," he said, shortly, and sat down to wait.

The Rev. Howard Wynkoop was neither giant nor dwarf, but the very
fortunate possessor of a countenance which at once awakened confidence
in his character. He entered the room quietly, rather dreading this
interview with one of Mr. Hampton's well-known proclivities, yet in
this case feeling abundantly fortified in the righteousness of his
cause. His brown eyes me