"Come, Lettie! come, sister! come home with me," her brother said.
She heeded not; the only seeming effect was a convulsion of the muscles
used in holding the lamp. I ventured to take it from her.
"Where did you find it?" she asked, in determined tones; "will you tell
me now?"
"Whom is she speaking to?" asked Mr. Axtell.
I answered,--
"Yes, Miss Axtell, it was in here."
"Where is the rest?" and her beautiful eyes were coruscant.
I handed to her the last of the trophies of my first visit. She seized
it eagerly.
"Don't do that," said Mr. Axtell, as she lighted it from the lamp he
held. But she was not to be stayed; she held it aloft until the fire
came down and touched her fingers; then she dropped it, burning still,
down to the stone floor, far below.
She seemed helpless then; she looked as she did when a few hours before
she had said, "I want some one to help me."
"Oh!--I've--lost--something!" and she tolled the words out, as slowly as
the notes of the passing bell.
"What is it, Lettie? Come home; the day is breaking"; and Mr. Axtell put
his arm about her.
I thought of the letter that I had picked up in the passage-way.
"What have you lost, Miss Axtell? Is it anything that I could find for
you?" and I laid my hand upon hers, as the only method of drawing away
her eyes from their terrible immutation of expression.
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