I don't care how lonesome it is. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. "Restore it," he cried, in an authoritative voice. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped. " "It is false," cried Mrs. ” “I cannot let you go on,” Ennison interrupted.
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