am, what you say to me never shall be repeated to any mortal man,
upon my honor."

"Well, then, she does remember him."

"But how?"

"As kindly, I think, as he could wish."

"I am glad to hear it, for his sake. You and I are the friends of both
parties: we can rejoice with each other."

He drew his chair much nearer hers, and took her hand. One moment the
widow resisted, but it was a magnetic touch, the rosy palm lay quietly
in his, and the dark beard bent so low that it nearly touched her
shoulder. It did not matter much. Was he not Samuel's dear friend? If he
was not the rose, had he not dwelt very near it, for a long, long time?

"It was a foolish quarrel that parted them," said the stranger, softly.

"Did he tell you about it?"

"Yes, on board the whaler."

"Did he blame her much?"

"Not so much as himself. He said that his jealousy and ill-temper drove
her to break off the match; but he thought sometimes if he had only gone
back and spoken kindly to her, she would have married him after all."

"I am sure she would," said the widow piteously. "She has owned it to me
more than a thousand times."

"She was not happy, then, with another."

"Mr.--that is to say, her husband--was very good and kind," said the
little woman, thinking of the lonely grave out on the hillside rather
penitently, "and they lived very pleasantly together. There never was a
harsh word between them."

"Still--might she not have been happier with Sam? Be honest, now, and
say just what you think."

"Yes."

"Bravo! that is what I wanted to come at. And now I have a secret to
tell you, and you must break it to her."

Mrs. Townsend looked rather scared.

"What is it?"

"I want you to go and see her, wherever she may be, and say to her,
'Maria,'--what makes you start so?"

"Nothing; only you speak so like some one I used to know, once in a
while."

"Do I? Well, take the rest of the message. Tell her that Sam loved her
through the whole; that, when he heard she was free, he began to work
hard at making a fortune. He has got it; and he is coming to share it
with her, if she will let him. Will you tell her this?"

The widow did not answer. She had freed her hand from his, and covered
her face with it. By and by she looked up again--he was waiting
patiently.

"Well?"

"I will tell her."

He rose from his seat, and walked up and down the room. Then he came
back, and leaning on the mantel-piece, stroked the yellow hide of Bo