eeded on their way to the huge building known as the Frankfort
Penitentiary. Hugh was well acquainted with the keeper, who admitted
them cheerfully, and ushered them at once into the spacious yard.

Pleased with Alice's enthusiastic interest in everything he said, the
keeper was quite communicative, pointing out the cells of any noted
felons, repeating little incidents of daring attempts to escape, and
making the visit far more entertaining than the party had expected.

"This," he said, opening a narrow door, "this belongs to the negro
stealer, Sullivan. You know him, Mrs. Worthington. He ran off the old
darky you now own, old Sam, I mean."

"I'd like to see Mr. Sullivan," Alice said. "I saw old Sam when he was
in Virginia."

"We'll find him on the ropewalk. We put our hardest customers there. Not
that he gives us trouble, for he does not, and I rather like the chap,
but we have a spite against these Yankee negro stealers," was the
keeper's reply, as he led the way to the long low room, where groups of
men walked up and down--up and down--holding the long line of hemp,
which, as far as they were concerned, would never come to an end until
the day of their release.

"That's he," the keeper whispered to Alice, who had fallen behind Hugh
and his mother. "That's he, just turning this way--the one to the
right."

Alice nodded in token that she understood, and then stood watching while
he came up. Mrs. Worthington and Hugh were watching too, not him
particularly, for they did not even know which was Sullivan, but stood
waiting for the whole long line advancing slowly toward them, their eyes
cast down with conscious shame, as if they shrank from being seen. One
of them, however, was wholly unabashed. He thought it probable the
keeper would point him out; he knew they used to do so when he first
came there, but he did not care; he rather liked the notoriety, and when
he saw that Alice seemed waiting for him, he fixed his keen eyes on her,
starting at the sight of so much beauty, end never even glancing at the
other visitors, at Mrs. Worthington and Hugh, who, a little apart from
each other, saw him at the same moment, both turning cold and faint, the
one with surprise, and the other with a horrid, terrible fear.

It needed but a glance to assure Hugh that he stood in the presence of
the man who with strangely winning powers had tempted him to sin--the
villain who had planned poor Adah's marriage--Monroe, her guardian,
w