After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding. “I can teach them so many things! Music, Latin, mathematics! Please do not take my Anna and Fritz away!” It was of no use. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. ‘Alors, I see it. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. The coconut plantation covered the west side. Very doubtful. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate.
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