The letter was from Henry, and Leoncia scanned it hurriedly. It was not precisely in farewell, for he wrote in the tenour of a man who never expected to die save by some inconceivable accident. Nevertheless, on the chance of such inconceivable thing becoming possible, Henry did manage to say good-bye and to include a facetious recommendation to Leoncia not to forget Francis, who was well worth remembering because he was so much like himself, Henry.
Leoncia's first impulse was to show the letter to the others, but the portion about Francis withstrained her.
"It's from Henry," she said, tucking the note into her bosom. "There is nothing of importance. He seems to have not the slightest doubt that he will escape somehow." "We shall see that he does," Francis declared positively.
With a gra
