Surely it was a dream. A young man was playing the banjo. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact. Doctor says depositions to-night. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all. I'm about to ring for supper.
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