The Shadow of a Sin

CHAPTER I.

"She is coming--my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat Had it lain for a century dead."

A rich musical voice trolled out the words, not once, but many times over--carelessly at first, and then the full sense of them seemed to strike the singer.

"'Had it lain for a century dead,'" he repeat...