“As Mrs. Debar wiped the fast falling tears from her eyes, she said: ‘I am truly sorry to hear of your misfortunes, but hope things are not so serious as you seem to think. I, too, have had my share of trouble; my poor husband has been compelled to exile himself from his country when he was innocent. I love him, and I mean to go where he goes; I will share his sorrows, and do my best to make him happy. It is true that my husband killed Mr. Clanton, but he did it in self-defense, and would have been able to prove it, but unfortunately, the only witness who saw the whole transaction died soon after the killing.’ “Mrs. Debar now went away, leaving me alone with Harry. She promised to be present on the next morning at the trial, to give her evidence, which would, of course, be greatly in my favor. “It was after night, and just six hours from the time my messenger had started with my dispatch, when he came dashing into my cell with an answer. He had made the round trip, a distance of forty-eight miles, in six hours. He informed me that he had to wait at the office just one hour for the answer, so he had done the traveling in five hours. “My hand trembled when I took the dispatch from the messenger, and well it might, for I knew that little paper would tell a tale that would seal my fate. It would tell me whether or not those charming blue eyes were ever again to gaze on me. It would decide whether or not I was ever to clasp dear Lottie to my heart again. I hesitated, and looked at Harry, but saw no encouragement there. He was as pale as death, and trembling from head to foot, and seemed to have ceased to breathe. “‘Eddie,’ he gasped, ‘you may be prepared to hear the very worst, for her case was hopeless when I left home. That telegram will either tell you she is dead, or that she is dying.’ “‘Heaven have mercy!’ I exclaimed, as I glanced over the contents of the dispatch. My worst fears were realized--my darling was dying. “It is useless for me to try to describe how I felt when I read the fatal news. No one can understand or appreciate it even if I could select words to tell how great was my misery. It was over half an hour before either of us spoke, and there is no telling when the silence would have been broken, had it not been for the messenger. “‘Will you wish to send another dispatch?’ inquired the lad, who had been silently witnessing this painful scene. ‘If you do, sir, I can be ready to go again as soon as I can eat a bite and procure a fresh horse.’ “‘I shall want to send another dispatch at daylight in the morning.’ “My audience will readily understand what cause for grief I had when the dispatch is read. Here it is,