At the end of two hours, exhausted with rage, she sank back upon the wooden seat, and wiped away the tears which fury had brought to her eyes.

There was a clatter at the door; a trap flew open in the centre, and presented a slide, on which was a bowl of gruel and a hunch of bread—​her supper.

At the same moment a stream of white flame burst up into the air and flared and bubbled, making her cell light and cheerful.

She took her supper from the slide, ate it slowly, and replaced the bowl upon the board. Half an hour afterwards the door again clattered and the mug disappeared.

A great bell rang, and filled the whole building with its harsh and monotonous tones.

At this signal she went to the corner of her cell, unrolled her bed, and suspended if from wall to wall after the fashion which has been described in one of our previous chapters. She undressed herself slowly—​being engaged in deep thought all the while. She lay down upon the bed; her brow was still dark and disturbed. Suddenly it became irradiated, and the prisoner sprang up in bed, and clapped her hands together.

“Ah, how foolish I have been!” she ejaculated; “but now I understand. How blind I have been! Ah! passionless man, I will conquer you yet. It is my only chance—​I will get him into my power!”

The gaslight died out of the leaden pipe; Laura Stanbridge sank back in her bed and fell asleep with a smile upon her lips.

Anyone to have seen her thus would have said she was a young virgin who was dreaming of her honeymoon.

On the following day the chaplain, at his customary hour, paid the shoplifter another visit. He exhorted her to prayer and repentance, and was more than usually earnest in his manner. She listened to him this time, and affected to be deeply moved at the words he gave utterance to. Having fulfilled his duties thus far, he rose to leave the cell. He paused, and laid his hand on the lock. She took advantage of this pause to speak. It was the first time he had heard this voice, which was sweet, plaintive, and dangerous as the voices of the sirens of old.