per through the air? The actual facts are that poor Antonia, upon hearing it, raised her hand instinctively to her heart and fell backward upon the wet flooring of the laundry.
"But is he really dead?" demanded the early comers of the more recent arrivals.
"Indeed he is!"
"I heard it in the market-place."
"I heard it in the shop."
"Well, and who told you?"
"Me? Oh, I heard it from my husband."
"And who told your husband?"
"The captain's mate."
"Who told the mate?"
"His foster-father."
At this point the matter seemed to be sufficiently authenticated, and no one sought to verify it further, but assumed that the news was valid and beyond question. The culprit dead, on the eve of pardon, and before completing the term of his sentence! Antonia, the charwoman, raised her head, and for the first time her cheeks tooks on the color of health, and the fountain of her tears was opened. She wept to her heart's content, and of all who saw her, there was not one that blamed her. It was she who had received her release, and her gladness was justified. The tears chased each other from the corners of her eyes, and as they flowed her heart expanded; because, from the day of the murder she had been under a weight too heavy for relief in tears. Now once more she could breathe freely, released from her nightmare fear. The hand of Providence had so plainly intervened that it never
