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"Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. “I can’t endure it,” she said. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. By the by, my dear, I forgot to ask your name—perhaps you'll oblige me with it now? Hell and the devil!—gone!" He looked around in vain. " The hint was not lost upon Wood. He would know her address to-morrow.
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