“There _are_ men who would die daily for the sake of making her happy, but you’ve put it out of their power, seeing you’ve married her,” continued Guzzy. “_I’m_ nothing to her, and can’t be, but for her sake to-night I’ve broken open the gunsmith’s shop, broken a jail, and”—here he stooped, and picked up a bundle—“robbed my own employer’s store of a suit of clothes for you, so you mayn’t be caught again in those prison stripes. If I’ve made myself a criminal for her sake: can’t her husband be an honest man for the same reason?” The convict wrung the hand of his preserver. He seemed to be trying to speak, but to have some great obstruction in his throat. Suddenly a bright light shone on the two men, and a voice was heard exclaiming, in low but very ferocious tones: “Do it, you scoundrel, or I’ll put a bullet through your head!” Both men looked up to the window of the cell, and saw a bull’s-eye lantern, the muzzle of a pistol, and the face of the Bowerton constable. The constable’s right eye, the sights of his pistol and the breast of the convict were on the same visual line. Without altering his position or that of his weapon, the constable whispered: “I’ve had you covered for the last ten minutes. I only held in to find out who was helping you; but I heard too much for _my_ credit as a faithful officer. Now, what are you going to do?” “Turn over a new leaf,” said the convict, bursting into tears. “Then get out,” whispered the officer, “and be lively, too—it’s almost daybreak.” “I’ll tell you what to do,” said little Guzzy, when the constable hurriedly whispered: “Wait until _I_ get out of hearing.” * * * * * The excitement which possessed Bowerton the next morning, when the events of the previous night were made public, was beyond the descriptive powers of the best linguists in the village. Helen Wyett a burglar’s wife! At first the Bowertonians scarcely knew whether it would be proper to recognize her at all, and before they were able to arrive at a conclusion the intelligence of the convict’s escape, the breaking open of the gunsmith’s shop, the finding of the front door of Cashing’s store ajar, and the discovery by Cashing that at least one suit of valuable clothing had been taken, came upon the astonished villagers and rendered them incapable of reason, and of every other mental attribute except wonder. That the prisoner had an accomplice seemed certain, and some suspicious souls suggested that the prisoner’s wife _might_ have been the person; but as one of the officers declared he had watched her house all night for fear of some such attempt, that theory was abandoned. Under the guidance of the constable, who zealously assisted them in every possible manner, the officers searched every house in Bowerton that might seem likely to afford a hiding-place, and then departed on what they considered the prisoner’s most likely route.