t will be one hour's respite. God help me, and strengthen poor
Arthur to bear the blow I bring him!"

Long before eight o'clock that day, Arthur Wardlaw had passed from a
state of somber misery and remorse to one of joy, exultation and unmixed
happiness. He no longer regretted his crime, nor the loss of the
_Proserpine._ Helen was alive and well, and attributed not her danger,
but only her preservation, to the Wardlaws.

Wardlaw senior kept his carriage in town, and precisely at eight o'clock
they drove up to the door of the hotel.

They followed the servant with bounding hearts, and rushed into the room
where the general and Helen stood ready to receive them. Old Wardlaw went
to the general with both hands out, and so the general met him, and
between these two it was almost an embrace. Arthur ran to Helen with
cries of joy and admiration, and kissed her hands again and again, and
shed such genuine tears of joy over them that she trembled all over and
was obliged to sit down. He kneeled at her feet, and still imprisoned one
hand, and mumbled it, while she turned her head away and held her other
hand before her face to hide its real expression, which was a mixture of
pity and repugnance. But, as her face was hidden, and her eloquent body
quivered, and her hand was not withdrawn, it seemed a sweet picture of
feminine affection to those who had not the key.

At last she was relieved from a most embarrassing situation by old
Wardlaw; he cried out on this monopoly, and Helen instantly darted out of
her chair, and went to him, and put up her cheek to him, which he kissed;
and then she thanked him warmly for his courage in not despairing of her
life, and his goodness in sending out a ship for her.

Now, the fact is, she could not feel grateful; but she knew she ought to
be grateful, and she was ashamed to show no feeling at all in return for
so much; so she was eloquent, and the old gentleman was naturally very
much pleased at first; but he caught an expression of pain on Arthur's
face, and then he stopped her. "My dear," said he, "you ought to thank
Arthur, not me; it is his love for you which was the cause of my zeal. If
you owe me anything, pay it to him, for he deserves it best. He nearly
died for you, my sweet girl. No, no, you mustn't hang your head for that,
neither. What a fool I am to revive old sorrows! Here we are, the
happiest four in England." Then he whispered to her, "Be kind to poor
Arthur, that is all I as