as to refuse this to a man who is broken-hearted, and almost crazy with remorse, and who promises by all that is sacred, before God, gives you his solemn word of honor, not to say a thing which it would be wrong for you to hear, who are going to be married, or for me to say, who am married already. Gives you his solemn word of honor. Only, before you are married, and so eternally separated from me, worse than death, to-morrow, before that, come and let me speak five words. If there is any mercy in your heart, you won't disappoint me. Come at once. I am going there right away, now, to wait for you. The rock among the pines. You know. Christine! Christine! For God's sake!--Elias Bacharach.”_ ***** This note, without stopping to read it over, he enveloped, and addressed. Then, in great haste, donning his hat, he left his room, and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, ran down stairs to the office, where he bade the clerk summon a messenger. “Yes, sir,” said the clerk; and, with a click-click-whir-r-r, off went the summons from the instrument. After which, the clerk returned to the dirty paper novel he had been reading. Elias wondered, in a dull, hazy way, how any body could have the heart to read a novel. Pending the messenger's arrival, he paced restlessly hither and thither about the broad, marble-paved entrance-hall of the house, and tried to get the better of that queer, confused feeling in his head. Tried in vain, however; for, from moment to moment, it grew more pronounced: a feeling of congestion, as though his brain was solidifying, turning into stone; as though gradually and simultaneously his different senses were being sealed up. By and by, as if through a deadening medium of some sort, as if through a thick blanket, he heard a lusty young voice shout: “Call?” He looked. As if through a veil, he saw a boy in brass buttons standing in front of him. “Yes,” said Elias; and it required a great effort of will to concentrate his mind sufficiently to find, and to regulate his organs of speech sufficiently to shape, the words: “Yes, come with me.” He led the boy to the corner of Seventh Avenue and Forty-eighth Street. The sun shone brightly. There was no wind. But it was very cold. Elias thought: “Perhaps it is the cold that makes me feel so strangely. I feel exactly as though my brain were being frozen, as hard as ice.” When they had reached the corner, he said: “Now, young man, I want you to take this note to this address, No.--, right on this block--that house, over there, just beyond the lamp post--and I want you to ask to see the lady to whom it is directed--Miss Redwood--to see her in person; do you understand? See her in person, and deliver this note into her own hands, and to nobody else. And then you come back here to this corner, where I shall wait for you. Now, hurry.” “Yes, sir,” replied the boy, with a sagacious wink; “I catch on, sir;” and started off.