from the saloon told her that the house was empty.  She rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman.  Then she ceased, but walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable yard.  She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew Semantha well, came along and cried out, ’I say, why didn’t you go with yer feller and his pal?’

“‘She didn’t say nary a word,’ said the boy, ’she didn’t say nary a word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same as a cat’s, and I says:  “Why, I seed ’em ketch the 4.30 train to Bellefontaine!  They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn’t scare a darn, they just laughed and laughed.”  And, Boss, something like a tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still as still after that doglike tremble went away.  I got muddled, and at last I says, “Semantha, hav’ yer got no sponds?” She didn’t seem to see me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, “Say, Semantha! where yer goin’ to? what yer goin’ ter do now?” and, Boss, she done the toughest thing I ever seen.  She jes’ slowly lifted up her hands and looked at ’em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and then jes’ as slow she turns ’em over, they were bare and empty, and the palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves ’em a bit, and then without raisin’ up her eyes, she jes’ smiles a little slow, slow smile.

“’And then she turned ’round and walked away without nary a word at all; but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and she dragged her feet along jes’ like an old, old woman, what was too tired to live.  I was skeered like, and thought I’d come here and tell you, but I looked back to watch her.  ’Twas almost dark then, and when she came to the crossin’, the wind was blowin’ so she could hardly stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther’ anything there; but ther’ wasn’t nothin’ but them dirty, low-hangin’ clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome.  And then right of a suddent she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together.  It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, “My God, it is too much!  I cannot, cannot bear it!” Then she draw’d herself up quite tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could carry her straight toward the river.’”

And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor Semantha.  I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more effectually by remarking:—­