of experience, when his desire was to know something of Manuel, heard
nothing of importance. The speech of the jailer on this subject was not
to be had. His mind seemed to be wandering, except when his wife, or
his native land, was referred to; then he brightened into speech, but
never once into cheerfulness. As he sat there in the middle of his
chamber, he seemed to represent the genius of the place,--and anything
less enlivening or desirable in the way of human life could hardly be
imagined. Pauline looked at him and sighed. She looked at Adolphus;--a
pang shot through her heart; the shadow of the man seemed to overshadow
him. Out of this place, where all appeared to be fast changing into
"goblins damned"!

It was she who led the way; but, pausing in the court-yard, Elizabeth
evinced still greater haste to be gone, for she ran on with fleet step,
and a heart heavy with foreboding as to the result of this interview.
She was also impatient to get into the open sunlight, and did not rest
in this progress she was making outward till she had come to the
sea-shore. Elizabeth Montier was in a state of dire perplexity just
then, and if she had been asked whether she would really choose to
effect the change proposed in their way of living, it would have been
no easy matter for her to discover her mind.

By the sea-shore she sat down, and her father and mother followed
slowly on. They were not talking as they came. But as they approached
the beach, Adolphus could not resist the prospect before them. Loud was
the blast he blew upon his horn, nor did he cease playing until his
music had restored him to a more natural mood than that in which the
interview with Laval left him. The prison was becoming a less startling
image of desolate dreariness to him. And Adolphus was the master-spirit
in his family. If he was gay, it was barely possible for his wife and