tretched as if to keep him
off, stood upon the threshold, gazing in mute terror at the horror of
her life, whispering incoherently: "What is it, Hugh? How came he here?
Save me, save me from him!"

A look, half of sorrow, half of contempt, flitted across the stranger's
face as he answered for Hugh kindly, gently: "Is the very sight of me so
terrible to you, Eliza? I am only here to set matters right. Here for
our daughter's sake. Eliza, where is our child?"

He had drawn nearer to her as he said this last, but she intuitively
turned to Hugh, who started suddenly, growing white and faint as a
suspicion of the truth flashed upon him.

"Mother?" he began, interrogatively, winding his arm about her, for she
was the weaker of the two.

She knew what he would ask, and with her eye still upon the man who
fascinated her gaze, she answered, sadly: "Forgive me, Hugh. He was--my
husband; he is--'Lina's father, not yours, Hugh--oh! Heaven be praised,
not yours!" and she clung closely to her boy, as if glad one child, at
least, was not tainted with the Murdock blood.

The convict smiled bitterly, and said to Hugh himself:

"Your mother is right. She was once my wife, but the law set her free
from the galling chain. Will some one call Densie Densmore in? I may
need her testimony."

No one volunteered to go for Densie Densmore, and he was about repeating
his request, when Alice came tripping down the stairs, and pausing at
the parlor door, looked in.

"Anna!" she exclaimed, but uttered no other sound for the terror of
something terrible, which kept her silent.

She stood looking from one to the other, until the convict said:

"Young lady, will you call in Densie Densmore? And stay, let the bride
know. She is wanted, too. I may as well confront all my victims at
once."

Alice never knew what she said to Densie, or 'Lina either. She was only
conscious of following them both down the stairs and into that dreadful
room. No one had said that she was wanted, but she could not keep away.
She must go, and she did, keeping close to Densie, who took but one
step, then with a delirious laugh, she darted upon the stranger like a
tigress, and seizing his arm, said, between a shriek and hiss:

"David Murdock, why are you here, a wolf in the sheepfold? Tell me,
where is my stolen daughter?"

For an instant the convict regarded the raving woman, and then, as if in
answer to her question, with a half nod, his glance rested on 'Lina,
w