Yours?" The stranger hesitated. "And Jack?" "Gone too," sobbed his daughter. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. ” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. A nod was exchanged.
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