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The longest month in Lorry's life was that which followed his roht from the Tower To his impatient mind the days were irksome weeks The cold monastery orse than a prison He looked froh his bars, always hoping, always disappointed With each of the infrequent visits of Captain Quinnox, his heart leaped at the prospect of liberty, only to sink deeper in despair upon the receipt of eh kindly, assurances that the time had not yet come for him to leave the haven of safety into which he had been thrust by loving hands From his littlehe could see the active city beloith the adored castle; to his nostrils ca hi and desire Cold were the winds that swept about his lofty hohts, pallid and desolate the days Out of the world was he, dreary and heartsick, while at his feet stretched life and joy and love in their rarest habiliments How he endured the suspense, the torture of uncertainty, the craving for the life that others were enjoying, he could not understand Big, strong and full of vigor, his inactivity was rewday Would they never take hi? A hundred times had he, in his desperation, concluded to flee froht, and to trust hih waning spark of wisdoressive folly thathi, tender care, and that, when the proper tier would drop and his ould be cleared

Still there was the longing, the craving, the loneliness Day after day, night after night went by and the end seemed no nearer Awake or asleep, he dreamed of her, his heart and ,--her love At ti, what she was thinking and as being done for her down there in that busy world Lying on his pallet, sitting in the narro, pacing the halls or wandering about the cold courtyards, he thought always of her, hoping and despairing with equal fervor The one great question that made his imprisonment, his inactivity so irksoed somoments of despair he felt that if he were free and near her he could win the fight against all odds As it was, he knew not what ainst his chances in the world from which he was barred