e alteration in her lover. It greatly increased
her anxiety, though it never shook her confidence in Ambrose. Except at
meal-times, I was left, during the period of which I am now writing,
almost constantly alone with the charming American girl. Miss
Meadowcroft searched the newspapers for tidings of the living John Jago
in the privacy of her own room. Mr. Meadowcroft would see nobody but
his daughter and his doctor, and occasionally one or two old friends. I
have since had reason to believe that Naomi, in these days of our
intimate association, discovered the true nature of the feeling with
which she had inspired me. But she kept her secret. Her manner toward
me steadily remained the manner of a sister; she never overstepped by a
hair-breadth the safe limits of the character that she had assumed.

The sittings of the court began. After hearing the evidence, and
examining the confession of Silas Meadowcroft, the grand jury found a
true bill against both the prisoners. The day appointed for their trial
was the first day in the new week.

I had carefully prepared Naomi's mind for the decision of the grand
jury. She bore the new blow bravely.

"If you are not tired of it," she said, "come with me to the prison
tomorrow. Ambrose will need a little comfort by that time." She paused,
and looked at the day's letters lying on the table. "Still not a word
about John Jago," she said. "And all the papers have copied the
advertisement. I felt so sure we should hear of him long before this!"

"Do you still feel sure that he is living?" I ventured to ask.

"I am as certain of it as ever," she replied, firmly. "He is somewhere
in hiding; perhaps he is in disguise. Suppose we know no more of him
than we know now when the trial begins? Suppose the jury--" She
stopped, shuddering. Death--shameful death on the scaffold--might be
the terrible result of the consultation of the jury. "We have waited
for news to come to us long enough," Naomi resumed. "We must find the
tracks of John Jago for ourselves. There is a week yet before the trial
begins. Who will help me to make inquiries? Will you be the man, friend
Lefrank!"

It is needless to add (though I knew nothing would come of it) that I
consented to be the man.

We arranged to apply that day for the order of admission to the prison,
and, having seen Ambrose, to devote ourselves immediately to the
contemplated search. How that search was to be conducted was more than
I could tell, a