'" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. So you are Prudence Remenham. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. Do you know what Spurlock has done?" "Mr.
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