I asked him—to take me away. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. " "Why didn't he arrest Mr. Before there is any change, any real change, I shall be dead—dead—dead and finished—two hundred years!. ‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year.
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