So, even when all grew still, Link could not rest, but wandered round and round the house, occasionally hurling his huge form against the kitchen door in a vain attempt to force an entrance. Then he would sit down on his haunches and dolorously bay at the moon again. But despite these mournful sounds of honest canine woe, and despite her own woes, the weary girl at last slept deep and dreamlessly, losing for a while the bitter realization of her griefs. When she awoke at last the sun rode high in the heavens, and for a moment, as it shone in her face, she forgot her sorrows, and seemed to be again the happy little Eva that used to spring up so eagerly to draw back the curtains to look for the offering of love that so often lay there mutely appealing to her in the name of the giver. But the white ruffled curtain had been taken away now, and as the midday sun glared on the bare floor that was streaked and stained with dark spots that would not “out,” she gasped and remembered all. The white matting had been removed, but the blood had soaked through it, and remained to bear terrible witness against the two who had done each other to death that fatal night. Springing from the bed, she softly tried the door again, but it was still tightly closed, and she wondered if her heartless cousins had forgotten her existence, or intended to starve her to death. She had not tasted food since her supper the previous night at the asylum, and she was faint from fasting. She went to the window, wondering if she would dare try to escape down the honeysuckle vine, but it had been cut down by her jealous cousins, who thought to thus circumvent her daring, unknown lover, if he ever returned. The window, too, was tightly nailed down, having been left to gloom and disuse since the night of the Hallowe’en tragedy. The air was close and stifling, and full of dust motes, so she caught up a book and dashed it against a pane of glass, shattering it, and letting in a little of the fresh outer air of the morning. She did not know that Nick observed her action, and reported at the first opportunity that “that poor crazy gal was goin’ on dretful, a-breakin’ out the panes of glass in the winder, and throwin’ out things to hit people.” The last statement was pure romance, but it added to the interest of his story. Then, as she sank wearily into a chair, Eva heard strange steps and voices going into Mr. Groves’ room. As they went in another terrifying sound came out to her ears, even through her own close-shut door--the loud, hoarse breathing of the dying man. Eva was no stranger to death. She had seen her grandmother die. She knew the awful voice of the approaching destroyer. “Gran’ther is dying--going away from his little Eva forever!” she burst out in anguish, and flew to the door, beating on it with frenzied little white hands, calling piteously: “Let me out, let me out! Let me kiss gran’ther good-by!”