“Papa,” cried Leonore, “don’t you see it’s killing me? I can’t bear it—” and Leonore stopped. “Yes, Watts, we must,” said Mrs. D’Alloi. Two hours later they were all three rolling towards New York. It was a five hours’ ride, but Leonore sat the whole distance without speaking, or showing any consciousness of her surroundings. For every turn of those wheels seemed to fall into a rhythmic repetition of: “If I had only said ‘good-bye.’” The train was late in arriving, and Watts tried to induce Leonore to go to a hotel for the night. She only said “No. Take me to him,” but it was in a voice which Watts could not disregard. So after a few questions at the terminal, which produced no satisfactory information, Watts told the cabman to drive to the City Hall Park. They did not reach it, however, for at the corner of Centre Street and Chambers, there came a cry of “halt,” and the cab had to stop. “You can’t pass this line,” said the sentry. “You must go round by Broadway.” “Why?” asked Watts. “The street is impassable.” Watts got out, and held a whispered dialogue with the sentry. This resulted in the summoning of the officer of the watch. In the mean time Leonore descended and joined them. Watts turned and said to her: “The sentry says he’s here.” Presently an officer came up. “An’ what do the likes av yez want at this time av night?” he inquired crossly. “Go away wid yez.” “Oh, Captain Moriarty,” said Leonore, “won’t you let me see him? I’m Miss D’Alloi.” “Shure,” said Dennis, “yez oughtn’t to be afther disturbin’ him. It’s two nights he’s had no sleep.” Leonore suddenly put her hand on Dennis’s arm. “He’s not killed?” she whispered, as if she could not breathe, and the figure swayed a little. “Divil a bit! They got it wrong entirely. It was that dirty spalpeen av a Podds.” “Are you sure?” said Leonore, pleadingly. “You are not deceiving me?” “Begobs,” said Dennis, “do yez think Oi could stand here wid a dry eye if he was dead?” Leonore put her head on Dennis’s shoulder, and began to sob softly. For a moment Dennis looked aghast at the results of his speech, but suddenly his face changed. “Shure,” he whispered, “we all love him just like that, an that’s why the Blessed Virgin saved him for us.” Then Leonore, with tears in her eyes, said, “I felt it,” in the most joyful of voices. A voice that had a whole _Te Deum_ in it. “Won’t you let me see him?” she begged. “I won’t wake him, I promise you.” “That yez shall,” said Dennis. “Will yez take my arm?” The four passed within the lines. “Step careful,” he continued. “There’s pavin’ stones, and rails, and plate-glass everywheres. It looks like there’d been a primary itself.”