Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. An electric light flashed out from the wall. To have the present lengthen into years! But in a few hours she would be upon her way, far lonelier than she had ever been. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. "To me?" gasped Winifred. Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. “—but this cannot be.
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