She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. Her faith in human beings revived. It was a different world. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. I'll see. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent.
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