that which is more precious still--my good name."

"Ah! that would be worth living for!" cried Helen.

"You will find it very hard to do; but not harder for a woman than to
launch a boat, and sail her without a mast. See my father, Michael
Penfold. See Undercliff, the expert. See the solicitor, the counsel. Sift
the whole story; and, above all, find out why Arthur Wardlaw dared not
enter the witness-box. Be obstinate as a man; be supple as a woman; and
don't talk of dying when there is a friend to be rescued from dishonor by
living and working."

"Die! while I can rescue you from death or dishonor! I will not be so
base. Ah, Robert, Robert, how well you know me!"

"Yes, I do know you, Helen. I believe that great soul of yours will keep
your body strong to do this brave work for him you love, and who loves
you. And as for me, I am man enough to live for years upon this island,
if you will only promise me two things."

"I promise, then."

"Never to die, and never to marry Arthur Wardlaw, until you have reversed
that lying sentence which has blasted me. Lay your hand on your father's
head, and promise me that."

Helen laid her hand upon her father's head, and said: "I pledge my honor
not to die, if life is possible, and never to marry any man, until I have
reversed that lying sentence which has blasted the angel I love."

"And I pledge myself to help her," said General Rolleston, warmly, "for
now I _know_ you are a man of honor. I have too often been deceived by
eloquence to listen much to that. But now you have proved by your actions
what you are. You pass a forged check, knowing it to be forged! I'd stake
my salvation it's a lie. There's my hand. God comfort you! God reward
you, my noble fellow!"

"I hope He will, sir," sobbed Robert Penfold. "You are her father; and
you take my hand; perhaps that will be sweet to think of by and by; but
no joy can enter my heart now; it is broken. Take her away at once, sir.
Flesh is weak. My powers of endurance are exhausted."

General Rolleston acted promptly on this advice. He rolled up her rugs,
and the things she had made, and Robert had the courage to take them down
to the boat. Then he came back, and the general took her bag to the boat.

All this time the girl herself sat wringing her hands in anguish, and not
a tear. It was beyond that now.

As he passed Robert, the general said: "Take leave of her alone. I will
come for her in five minutes. You see how sure I fee