Soen the sound of footsteps outside the door arrested my attention. The bolt was drawu back, the key turned in the latch and the door opeued. I saw a tall, gaunt woman of the middle.class, seemingly about 50 years of age, dressed in shabby mourning, standing there. She carried iu her hand a tray, containing hot coffee, rolls and chicken, which she set down upon the tnble, with the words: “ Eat this little bit of breakfast now, and you’ll feel better.’’ I sprang toward her. “ Tell me," 1 cried, “ why am I here ? What will they do to me ? Who’’— She out me abort by saying in a not unkindly voice:

“ I am not able to help you or answer your questions. It may turn out all right." Presently she carried away, almost untasted, the tray containing the breakfast. Later in the day she brought me some dinner, and toward night a cap ef ten. The long hours passed by, and still ns assist ance arrived, 1 tried to read. On the table were several fresh magazines, but I could not fix my thoughts on any subject long enough ts interest myself, and I finally gave up to my gloomy meditations. It grew dark again at last and perhaps was about 8 o ciock when the sound of voices heavy steps outside the door aroused me, and .immediately afterward two men, my masked captors of the night before, entered the room ah? advanced towards me. They still wore masks.
