energetic voice, and his wife's gentle, calm manner, soon subdued the spasm and restored their patient to a degree of rationality.
"Oh! I know you, Susan; and you, too, Harry Aikin!" she said.
"And we know you, Paulina," replied Susan; "and would be glad to do any thing we can for you."
The kindness of Susan's tone brought a flood of tears from Paulina. This seemed to relieve her; and she said, in her natural voice—
"But you don't know, you don't know—" her utterance was choked.
"We don't know," said Susan, "but we can guess."
"And can you speak so kindly to me?"
"There is no reason we should not be kind to you; kindness is what you want, and we have to give, so it may be a comfort to us both."
"Oh! indeed, I do want it," said Paulina, recurring to her present and pressing troubles. "See here, Harry Aikin," she added, picking up the note she had dropped; "do you advise me what to do; this comes from my hus—" She hesitated: she felt this was no time for deception, and she added, "from him I called my husband."
Aikin read the note, which was as follows:—
"I am blown, and must make a voyage up the river to Lockport—save yourself—the police dogs are on the scent—look to the black trunks
"You must tell me the truth, Paulina, or I can be of no service to you. How long have you lived with this man?"
"Six months."
