" The doctor relaxed. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. But this wild scheme was speedily abandoned; and, nerved by despair, the carpenter resolved to hazard an attempt, from the execution, almost from the contemplation, of which he had hitherto shrunk. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. " CHAPTER IX.
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