gh the deserted room, and ended in a hysteric sob; she
threw herself on the floor, in convulsive sobbing and struggles.

In a few moments, the frenzy fit seemed to pass off; she rose slowly,
and seemed to collect herself.

"Can I do anything more for you, my poor fellow?" she said, approaching
where Tom lay; "shall I give you some more water?"

There was a graceful and compassionate sweetness in her voice and
manner, as she said this, that formed a strange contrast with the former
wildness.

Tom drank the water, and looked earnestly and pitifully into her face.

"O, Missis, I wish you'd go to him that can give you living waters!"

"Go to him! Where is he? Who is he?" said Cassy.

"Him that you read of to me,--the Lord."

"I used to see the picture of him, over the altar, when I was a girl,"
said Cassy, her dark eyes fixing themselves in an expression of mournful
reverie; "but, _he isn't here!_ there's nothing here, but sin and long,
long, long despair! O!" She laid her land on her breast and drew in her
breath, as if to lift a heavy weight.

Tom looked as if he would speak again; but she cut him short, with a
decided gesture.

"Don't talk, my poor fellow. Try to sleep, if you can." And, placing
water in his reach, and making whatever little arrangements for his
comforts she could, Cassy left the shed.

CHAPTER XXXV

The Tokens

"And slight, withal, may be the things that bring
Back on the heart the weight which it would fling
Aside forever; it may be a sound,
A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound,--
Striking the electric chain wherewith we're darkly bound."
CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE, CAN. 4.

The sitting-room of Legree's establishment was a large, long room,
with a wide, ample fireplace. It had once been hung with a showy and
expensive paper, which now hung mouldering, torn and discolored, from
the damp walls. The place had that peculiar sickening, unwholesome
smell, compounded of mingled damp, dirt and decay, which one often
notices in close old houses. The wall-paper was defaced, in spots, by
slops of beer and wine; or garnished with chalk memorandums, and long
sums footed up, as if somebody had been practising arithmetic there. In
the fireplace stood a brazier full of burning charcoal; for, though the
weather was not cold, the evenings always seemed damp and chilly in that
great room; and Legree, moreover, wanted a place to light his cigars,
and heat hi