"You tell me that you are innocent," said Daisy, looking at a small portrait of Mortimer which hung over the fire-place--"I do not question, I only believe you!" And then Daisy did a very strange thing, and yet it was very like Daisy. She untied the brown ribbon which bound her dark lengths of hair, allowing them to fall over her shoulders; then she braided the string of pearls with her tresses, and brought the whole in a beautiful band over her forehead. And she looked like a little queen with this coronal of jet and pearl shading her brows. Daisy next picked the jewel-case to pieces, and threw the minute shreds into the street. This was scarcely done, when the door-bell rang impatiently. The girl peeped from the window. The two men at the door-step were not to be mistaken. Daisy's fingers trembled as she undid the fastenings of the door. "We have orders to search this house, miss," said one of the officers, touching the vizor of his cap respectfully. Daisy choked down a sob, and led them with an unnatural calmness from room to room. Every place in the little house was investigated, but in vain; no necklace was to be found. Yet twice the breath of one of the searchers fell on the pearls in Daisy's hair. The two officers left the house in evident chagrin. When they had gone, the girl sat on the stairs and sobbed. Happily for her wishes, Mrs. Snarle had been absent during the search; and thus far had been kept in ignorance of Mortimer's disgrace. But Daisy could not hope to keep it a secret from her long, for they both would probably be summoned as witnesses in open court. The thought of giving evidence against Mortimer went through Daisy's heart like an intense pain. It terrified her, and her warm little heart was floating on tears all day. The cloud which had fallen on her seemed to have no silver lining; all was cold, black and sunless. But there is no mortal wound to which some unseen angel does not bring a balm-- "There are gains for all our losses!" Daisy remembered Mortimer's words: _"Promise that you will not doubt me, whatever may occur in connection with this necklace--that you will love me, though I may be unable to explain condemning circumstances, or dispel the doubts of others_"--and the words came to her freighted with such hope and tenderness, that her sleep that night was deep and refreshing. Doubt had folded its wings in the heart of Daisy Snarle. XIII. LUDWICK.--_Now here's a man half ruined by ill luck, As true a man as breathes the summer air._ LAUNCELOT.--_Ill luck, erratic jade! but yesterday She might have made him king!_ OLD PLAY. XIII. IN THE TOMBS. _The Author's Summer Residence--The Egyptian Prison--Without and Within--A Picture--Sunshine in Shadow--Joe Wilkes and his unique Proposal--Gloomy Prospects--The face at the cell-window._