wrapper, and her
face colourless as the dress she wore. There was a wild, frightened
look in her staring eyes.

"Is Mr. Wilkinson here?" she asked, just as her husband's eyes rested
upon her, and her thrilling voice reached his ears.

With a bound, Wilkinson was at her side.

"Oh, John! John!" she cried, in a voice of anguish. "Come home! Come
quick! Our dear little Ella is dying!"

An instant more, and, to the inmates of the bar-room, the curtain fell
upon that startling scene; for Wilkinson and his wife vanished almost
as suddenly as if they had sunk together through the floor.

CHAPTER IV.

DURING the day on which our story opened, Henry Ellis had obtained from
a friend the first volume of Prescott's History of Mexico, then just
from the press. An hour's perusal of its fascinating pages awakened in
his mind a deep interest.

"Just the book to read to Cara," said he to himself, closing the
volume, and laying it aside. "She's too much taken up with mere
fiction. But here is that truth which is stranger than fiction; and I
am sure she will soon get absorbed in the narrative."

With his new book, and this pleasant thought in his mind, Ellis took
his way homeward, after the business of the day was over. As he walked
along, a friend overtook him, and said, familiarly, as he touched him
on the shoulder,

"I'm glad to overhaul you so opportunely. Half a dozen times, to-day, I
have been on the eve of running round to see you, but as often was
prevented. All in good time yet, I hope. I want you to come over to my
room, this evening. There are to be three or four of our friends there,
and some good eating and drinking into the bargain."

"A temptation certainly," replied Ellis. "No man likes good company
better than I do; but, I rather think I must forego the pleasure this
time."

"Why do you say that?"

"I've promised myself another pleasure."

"Another engagement?"

"Not exactly that. Barker has loaned me the first volume of Prescott's
Mexico; and I'm going to spend the evening in reading it to my wife."

"Any other evening will do as well for that," returned the friend. "So
promise me to come around. I can't do without you."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Ellis, firmly. "But, when I once get my
mind fixed on a thing, I am hard to change."

"Perhaps your wife may have some engagement on hand, for the evening,
or be disinclined for reading. What then?"

"You will see me at your room," was the