Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. "If you thought that, why did you give me this job?"—his voice faint and thick. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning.
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