aks
English as well or better than I do; and he has treated me with a
kindness which I can find no words to praise. When he was a young man
he was in England himself, learning business, and he says he has
remembrances of our country which make his heart warm toward an
Englishman. He has fitted me out with clothes, and has lent me the
money to travel with, as soon as the doctor allows me to start for home.
Supposing I don't get a relapse, I shall be fit to travel in a week's
time from this. If I can catch the mail at Trieste, and stand the
fatigue, I shall be back again at Thorpe Ambrose in a week or ten days
at most after you get my letter. You will agree with me that it is a
terribly long letter. But I can't help that. I seem to have lost my old
knack at putting things short, and finishing on the first page. However,
I am near the end now; for I have nothing left to mention but the reason
why I write about what has happened to me, instead of waiting till I get
home, and telling it all by word of mouth.

"I fancy my head is still muddled by my illness. At any rate, it only
struck me this morning that there is barely a chance of some vessel
having passed the place where the yacht foundered, and having picked up
the furniture, and other things wrenched out of her and left to float.
Some false report of my being drowned may, in that case, have reached
England. If this has happened (which I hope to God may be an unfounded
fear on my part), go directly to Major Milroy at the cottage. Show
him this letter--I have written it quite as much for his eye as for
yours--and then give him the inclosed note, and ask him if he doesn't
think the circumstances justify me in hoping he will send it to Miss
Milroy. I can't explain why I don't write directly to the major, or to
Miss Milroy, instead of to you. I can only say there are considerations
I am bound in honor to respect, which oblige me to act in this
roundabout way.

"I don't ask you to answer this, for I shall be on my way home, I hope,
long before your letter could reach me in this out-of-the-way place.
Whatever you do, don't lose a moment in going to Major Milroy. Go, on
second thoughts, whether the loss of the yacht is known in England or
not.

"Yours truly, ALLAN ARMADALE."

"I looked up when I had come to the end of the letter, and saw, for
the first time, that Bashwood had left his chair and had placed himself
opposite to me. He was intently studying my face, with the