She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. " "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,—and then all is over. With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. " Quilt, however, seemed unwilling to speak.
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