"I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. ‘It is pretty. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity.
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