M RS. KENYON\'S depression and apparent submission to her fate had relaxed the vigilance of her keepers. Still, it is doubtful if she would have escaped but for the help of her insane room-mate.

Late one evening Cleopatra, with a cunning expression, showed her a key.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked.

"It is a key."

"It is the key of this door."

"How did you get it?"

Upon this point the queen would give no information. But she lowered her voice and whispered:

"Mark Antony is waiting for me outside. He is going to carry me away."

It was useless to question her delusion, and Mrs. Kenyon contented herself with asking:

"Do you mean to leave this house?"

"Yes," said Cleopatra. "Antony expects me. Will you go with me? I will make you one of my maids of honor."

"Do you think we can get out?" asked Mrs. Kenyon dubiously. "The outer door is locked."

"I know where to find the key. Time presses. Will you go?"

Believing in the death of her son, Mrs. Kenyon had supposed herself indifferent to liberty, but now that the hope of escape was presented a wild desire to throw off the shackles of confinement came to her. What her future life might be she did not care to ask; but once to breathe the free air, a free woman, excited and exhilarated her.

"Yes; I will go," she said quickly. "Come!"

The two women dressed themselves hurriedly, softly they opened the door of their room, went downstairs, and from under the mat in the unlighted hall Cleopatra stooped down and drew out the key of the outer door.

"See!" she said exultantly.

"Quick! Open the door!" exclaimed Mrs. Kenyon nervously.

The key turned in the lock with a grating sound which she feared might lead to discovery, but fortunately it did not. A moment and they stood on the outside of their prison-house.

Now Mrs. Kenyon assumed the lead.

"Come," she said.

"Do you know where to find Mark Antony?" asked Cleopatra.

"Yes; follow me."

They did not venture to take the highway. The chances of discovery were too great. Neither knew much about the country, but Mrs. Kenyon remembered that a colored woman, sometimes employed at the asylum, lived in a lonely hut a mile back from the road. This woman—old Nancy—she had specially employed by permission of Dr. Fox, and to her hut she resolved to go.

Cleopatra, no longer self-reliant, followed her confidingly. Just on the verge of a wood, with no other dwelling near at hand, dwelt the old black woman. It was a rude cabin, dark and unpainted. Cleopatra looked doubtfully at it.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing still. "Antony is not here."

It was not a time to reason, nor was the assumed queen a person to reason with. There was no choice but to be positive and peremptory.

"No," she answered, "Antony is not here, but here he will meet you. It is a poor place, but his enemies lie in wait for him, and he wishes to see you in secret."

This explanation suited Cleopatra\'s humor.

She nodded her head in a satisfied way and said:

"I know it. Augustus would murder my Antony if he could."

"Then you must not expose him to danger. Come with me."

Mrs. Kenyon advanced, not without some misgivings, since Nancy was unaware of her visit. She could hear the old woman snoring, and was compelled to knock loudly. At last old Nancy heard, and awoke in a great fright.

"Who\'s there?" she called out, in a quavering voice.

"It\'s I, Nancy. It\'s Mrs. Kenyon."

This only seemed to alarm the old woman the more. She was superstitious, like most of her race, and straightway fancied that it was some evil spirit who had assumed Mrs. Kenyon\'s voice.

"Go away, you debbil!" she answered, in tremulous accents. "I know you. You\'s an evil sperrit. Go away, and leave old Nancy alone."

Had her situation been less critical, Mrs. Kenyon would have been amused at the old woman\'s alarm, but in the de............