With a bound, Wilkinson was at her side.

"Oh, John! John!" she cried, in a voice of anguish. "Come home! Come
quick! Our dear little Ella is dying!"

An instant more, and, to the inmates of the bar-room, the curtain
fell upon that startling scene; for Wilkinson and his wife vanished
almost as suddenly as if they had sunk together through the floor.






CHAPTER IV.





DURING the day on which our story opened, Henry Ellis had obtained
from a friend the first volume of Prescott's History of Mexico, then
just from the press. An hour's perusal of its fascinating pages
awakened in his mind a deep interest.

"Just the book to read to Cara," said he to himself, closing the
volume, and laying it aside. "She's too much taken up with mere
fiction. But here is that truth which is stranger than fiction; and
I am sure she will soon get absorbed in the narrative."