Wood will protect you," urged Mrs. "You don't say so!" replied Mrs. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. However, not a moment is to be lost. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square.
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