Tinling & Co. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. I have no right to love you. He was in a curious state of desperation. ’ The door opened and Saling entered again. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. Her sister’s words were true. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. We had better have it over. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Well, it's scarcely credible. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs.
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