"Why?"
"I don't intend that you shall have your hands free to dig your way out," with which I left him, decidedly crestfallen in demeanor.
A few nights later I spent the entire period of darkness in the neighborhood of the old sugar-house. Leaving just before dawn, I was on my way home, when, as I drew near a corner, I was suddenly confronted by a slenderly-built mulatto.
Gliding up before me, he extended his hand, and uttered one word:
"Shadow!"
[CHAPTER XV.]
A FIEND IN HUMAN SHAPE.
Poor Helen Dilt!
Better, much better, would it be for her to die at once, if she was to be called on to long endure the torments that were devised and executed by the ugly-faced hag who presided over that private mad-house.