Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. Hot coffee and cakes were sent in to them in the morning by some intelligent sympathizer, or she would have starved all day. ' So I go to Patagonia.
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