easy finding reasons why other folks should be patient."
"Mr Massey," said Adam, penitently, "I'm very hot and hasty. I owe you something different; but you mustn't take it ill of me."
"Not I, lad—not I."
So the night wore on in agitation, till the chill dawn and the growing light brought the tremulous quiet that comes on the brink of despair. There would soon be no more suspense.
"Let us go to the prison now, Mr Massey," said Adam, when he saw the hand of his watch at six.
"If there's any news come, we shall hear about it."
The people were astir already, moving rapidly, in one direction, through the streets. Adam tried not to think where they were going, as they hurried past him in that short space between his lodging and the prison gates. He was thankful when the gates shut him in from seeing those eager people. No; there was no news come—no pardon—no reprieve.
Adam lingered in the court half an hour, before he could bring himself to send word to Dinah that
