Under Lock and Key; or, Marion Marlowe's Last Role — page 10: what you’re looking at

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4 school, and—well, I hope I'll be on hand at the day of reckoning.” ‘There was a quiet laugh, and then the bus- tle of supper followed. The patients in ward three were fed like so many cattle, after which they were promptly undressed and hurried into their gloomy sleeping-rooms. At nine o’clock one light alone burned dimly in the ward, and from each of the rooms came strange, unearthly noises. Here a patient would be singing in a weird, un- } canny strain; there, another would be weep- ing or cursing volubly. Each had given. her- self up to her individual fancy or delusion, and the place would have sounded like pande- - monium to an outsider. . Miss Thompson glanced at the clock in the attendants’ bedroom and yawned. It was a quarter of ten. She must sit up fifteen minutes longer. | “T suppose we'll both have to turn ott when the new patient comes,” she said, dis- gustedly. “Of course, she'll be excited, and probably the night-watch won’t be able to handle her! Hello! There she is now! [ll bet a hatpin!” She half rose from her chair and listened intently, while Miss Taylor, who was brush- ing her hair for the night, hastened to braid _ it firmly. “The room is ready, and there’s a strait- jacket on the first nail in the clothes-room,” she began, in a matter-of-fact tone, when another unusual sound echoed through the building. “T declare, I believe they are actually drag- ging her!” cried Miss Thompson, quickly. “TI can hear a dozen feet, and—yes, I’m sure that is Dr. Lee’s voice! Well, she must be a corker, if his joblots is with her!” The two girls had just time to appear. upon the ward when the door flew open. There _ were at least a half dozen attendants, the su- pervisor and two doctors; and then their eyes fell upon the face of the expected new patient. A young girl, beautifully formed, and with a face as perfect as a saint’s, was struggling _ desperately in the hands of two stalwart at- _. _ tendants. As they glanced at each other, and = = ; P ’ law . <_ ‘aut = * é A * P 4 . “ ees , Bie uy a . ss ~*~) 9 4 Cd | ‘4 a Dy ily wo At 7 * unjustly, which is very natural. MY QUEEN. 7 then at her, the great, luminous eyes of the young girl were turned to them beseechingly. “Do tell me what this outrage means?” she cried, in a ringing voice. “I came in this place for a few minutes’ rest, and, by some hideous blunder, I have been detained, arid my nurse has left me. Who dares to say that I am insane? I am as sane as you are, and you know it—every one of you! Let me out this minute, if you have any justice in your souls! Oh, Reginald—Bert! Oh, Alma! If you only knew what I am enduring!" She covered her face with her hands as she said the last words; then, as those about her fell back a little, she withdrew them instantly. “No, I will not weep!” she said, holding her head proudly. “I have been cruelly wronged; but I will be strong and brave! If demand my liberty of you, Dr. Lee! If you do not give it to me at once, I shall force you to give it!” As she mentioned his name, the superin- tendent of the sanitarium stepped forward. He did not look at the patient, but turned at once to the two attendants. “A very sad case, girls,” he said, in his oily tones; “an exceedingly sad case! She is ex- tremely violent. Of course, you will use all necessary precaution, Miss Taylor. The young lady thinks she is being incarcerated It is only one of her many hallucinations.” A scornful glance from the excited young girl followed his words; then, once more the great, gray eyes rested upon Miss Thompson. “Listen!” she cried, sharply. “I have something to say! I am here through some horrible mistake! Oh, ladies, if you have any mercy in your hearts, let me out of this place! Iand my lover will reward you hand- somely. He is Dr. Reginald Brookes, of New York, and [am Marion Marlowe, an actress! I will tell you my story, and then you must save me!” ‘ CHAPTER IV. A COMFORTER, The names had hardly left her lips when the superintendent interrupted her. “You can tell these young ladies your story to-morrow,” he said, quickly; “but you must COMICOOOKS.€O©