as to the little girl. We will not call it insane, sir. But--are you
married?"

OXONIAN (blushing).--"No, ma'am."

MRS. CRANE.--"But you have a sister, perhaps?"

OXONIAN.--"Yes; I have one sister."

MRS. CRANE.--"Would you like your sister to be running about the country
in that way,--carried off from her home, kindred, and friends?"

OXONIAN.--"Ah! I understand. The poor little girl is fond of the old
man,--a relation, grandfather perhaps? and he has taken her from her
home; and though not actually insane, he is still--"

MRS. CRANE.--"An unsafe guide for a female child, delicately reared.
I reared her; of good prospects, too. O sir, let us save the child!
Look--" She drew from a sidepocket in her stiff iron-gray apron a folded
paper; she placed it in the Oxonian's hand; he glanced over and returned
it.

"I see, ma'am. I cannot hesitate after this. It is a good many miles
off where I met the persons whom I have no doubt that you seek; and two
or three days ago my father received a letter from a very worthy,
excellent man, with whom he is often brought into communication upon
benevolent objects,--a Mr. Hartopp, the Mayor of Gatesboro', in which,
among other matters, the Mayor mentioned briefly that the Literary
Institute of that town had been much delighted by the performance of a
very remarkable man with one eye, about whom there seemed some mystery,