“We can be alone?” She inquired. ’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You must be got rid of, that is seen. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. This she would not endure. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do.
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