" "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure. The fire still burned brightly. It was only a matter of time. Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. “My dear Anna,” he answered. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed.
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