There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. Though Lucy refused to personally implicate her, Mr.
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