But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. And you’re as clean as fire. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. Certainly you have a reason.
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