"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and
speak in Whispers. I cannot give the reason."

"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?"

"It is happening now, but I cannot explain."

"WHAT is happening?"

"Jane," I whispered, ernestly, "you have known me a long time and I have
always been Trustworthy, have I not?"

She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her
mouth and forgot to close it.

"Then ask No Questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed to
me that Mr. Beecher through his pen at the door, and began to pace the
bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, I was not
certain. Jane heard somthing, to, for she clutched my arm.

"Bab," she said, in intence tones, "if you don't explain I shall lose my
mind. I feel now that I am going to shreik."

She looked at me searchingly.

"Sombody is a Prisoner. That's all."

It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane Raleigh
to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later in Public