It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. "Fly!" cried Jack; "escape if you can; don't mind me. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. Just speak the word," he added, drawing the knife significantly across his throat, "and I'll put it out of his power to do the same by your second. "You are my prisoner. You dear, dear girl.
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