o for some days had secretly expected this visit, merely gave a
little squeak; but Helen uttered a violent scream; and, upon that, Wylie
recognized her, and literally staggered back a step or two, and these
words fell out of his mouth--

"The sick girl!"

Helen caught them.

"Ay!" cried she; "but she is alive in spite of you. Alive to denounce you
and to punish you."

She darted forward, and her eyes flashed lightning.

"Look at this man, all of you," she cried. "Look at him well. THIS IS THE
WRETCH THAT SCUTTLED THE _Proserpine!"_

CHAPTER LXII.

"OH, Miss Helen, how can you say that?" cried Nancy, in utter dismay.
"I'll lay my life poor Joe never did such wickedness."

But Helen waved her off without looking at her, and pointed at Wylie.

"Are you blind? Why does he cringe and cower at sight of me? I tell you
he scuttled the _Proserpine,_ and the great auger he did it with I have
seen and handled. Yes, sir, you destroyed a ship, and the lives of many
innocent persons, whose blood now cries to Heaven against you; and if _I_
am alive to tell the cruel tale, it is no thanks to you; for you did your
best to kill me, and, what is worse, to kill Robert Penfold, this
gentleman's son; for he was on board the ship. You are no better than an
assassin."

"I am a man that's down," said Wylie, in a low and broken voice, hanging
his head. "Don't hit me any more. I didn't mean to take anybody's life. I
took my chance with the rest, lady, as I'm a man. I have lain in my bed
many's the night, crying like a child, with thinking you were dead. And
now I am glad you are alive to be revenged on me. Well, you see, it is
your turn now; you have lost me my sweetheart, there; she'll never speak
to me again, after this. Ah, the poor man gets all the blame! You don't
ask who tempted me; and, if I was to tell you, you'd hate me worse than
ever; so I'll belay. If I'm a sinner, I'm a sufferer. England's too hot
to hold me. I've only to go to sea, and get drowned the quickest way."
And with this he vented a deep sigh, and slouched out of the room.

Nancy sank into a seat, and threw her apron over her head, and rocked and
sobbed as if her heart would break.

As for Helen Rolleston, she still stood in the middle of the room,
burning with excitement.

Then poor old Michael came to her, and said, almost in a whisper:

"It is a bad business; he is her sweetheart, and she had the highest
opinion of him."

This softened Helen in a g