the manuscript before him on the table, and read the
opening sentences in these words:

"I address this letter to my son, when my son is of an age to understand
it. Having lost all hope of living to see my boy grow up to manhood, I
have no choice but to write here what I would fain have said to him at a
future time with my own lips.

"I have three objects in writing. First, to reveal the circumstances
which attended the marriage of an English lady of my acquaintance, in
the island of Madeira. Secondly, to throw the true light on the death of
her husband a short time afterward, on board the French timber ship _La
Grace de Dieu_. Thirdly, to warn my son of a danger that lies in wait
for him--a danger that will rise from his father's grave when the earth
has closed over his father's ashes.

"The story of the English lady's marriage begins with my inheriting the
great Armadale property, and my taking the fatal Armadale name.

"I am the only surviving son of the late Mathew Wrentmore, of Barbadoes.
I was born on our family estate in that island, and I lost my father
when I was still a child. My mother was blindly fond of me; she denied
me nothing, she let me live as I pleased. My boyhood and youth were
passed in idleness and self-indulgence, among people--slaves and
half-castes mostly--to whom my will was law. I doubt if there is a
gentleman of my birth and station in all England as ignorant as I am at
this moment. I doubt if there was ever a young man in this world whose
passions were left so entirely without control of any kind as mine were
in those early days.

"My mother had a woman's romantic objection to my father's homely
Christian name. I was christened Allan, after the name of a wealthy
cousin of my father's--the late Allan Armadale--who possessed estates in
our neighborhood, the largest and most productive in the island, and who
consented to be my godfather by proxy. Mr. Armadale had never seen his
West Indian property. He lived in England; and, after sending me the
customary godfather's present, he held no further communication with my
parents for years afterward. I was just twenty-one before we heard again
from Mr. Armadale. On that occasion my mother received a letter from
him asking if I was still alive, and offering no less (if I was) than to
make me the heir to his West Indian property.

"This piece of good fortune fell to me entirely through the misconduct
of Mr. Armadale's son, an only child. The yo