tic, are points
capable of infinite discussion. At present we should be smiling and
thankful, which,' added he, breaking off, 'Miss Whichello is not, I
regret to see.'

'I am thinking of my poor sister,' sobbed the old lady. 'How do I know
but that the villain did not deceive her also by making her his wife
under a false name?'

'No, madam!' interposed Baltic, eagerly. 'Bosvile was the man's true
name, therefore he was legally your sister's husband. I wrote down a
statement by Mother Jael that Jentham was really Pharaoh Bosvile, and,
at my request, she signed the same. Here it is, signed by her and
witnessed by me. I shall give it to you, my lord, that you may lock it
up safely with those certificates.'

'Thank you, Mr Baltic,' said the bishop, taking the slip of paper
tendered by the missionary, 'but I trust that--er--that this woman knows
little of the truth.'

'She knows nothing, my lord, save that Bosvile, for his own purposes,
took the names of Amaru and Jentham at different times. The rogue was
cunning enough to keep his own counsel of his life amongst the Gentiles;
of his marriages, false and true, Mother Jael is ignorant. Set your mind
at rest, sir, she will never trouble you in any way.'

'Good!' said Dr Pendle, drawing a long breath of relief. 'Then, as such
is the case, my friends, I think it advisable that we should keep our
knowledge of Bosvile's iniquities to ourselves. I do not wish my son
George or my daughter Lucy to learn the sad story of the past. Such
knowledge would only vex them unnecessarily.'

'And I'm sure I don't want Mab to know what a villain her father was,'
broke in Miss Whichello. 'Thank God she is unlike him in every way, save
that she takes after him in looks. When Captain Pendle talks of Mab's
rich Eastern beauty, I shiver all over; he little knows that he speaks
the truth, and that Mab has Arab blood in her veins.'

'Not Arab blood, my dear lady,' cried Graham, alertly; 'the gipsies do
not come from Arabia, but, as is believed, from the north of India. They
appeared in Europe about the fifteenth century, calling themselves,
falsely enough, Egyptians. But both Borrow and Leland are agreed
that--'

'I don't want to hear about the gipsies,' interrupted Miss Whichello,
cutting short the doctor's disquisition; 'all I know is, that if Bosvile
or Jentham, or whatever he called himself, is a sample of them, they are
a wicked lot of Moabites. I wonder the bishop lets his son marry the