“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. On Sunday, he was conveyed to the chapel, through which he had passed on the occasion of his great escape, and once more took his seat in the Condemned Pew. Annabel thought, and thought again. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said.
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