Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. T' other gen'l'man said the letter 'ud explain all. “The fellow seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in Paris. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before.
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