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" "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. . It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. S. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. The Lord have mercy upon you!" This ceremony concluded, the calvacade was again put in motion. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. “Thank you—and good-bye. . "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side.

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