No, but it is time you did
so. I am your daughter's husband, John Holbrook."

"Indeed. I have heard that she has been persecuted by the messages of
some person calling himself her husband. You are that person, I presume."

"I have tried to persuade my wife to see me. Yes; and I mean to see her
before this vessel arrives in port."

"But if the lady in question refuses to have anything to say to you?"

"We shall soon put that to the test. I have been too ill to stir ever
since I came on board, or you would have heard of me before this, Mr.
Nowell. Now that I can move about once more, I shall find a way to assert
my claims, you may be sure. But in the first place, I want to know by
what right you stole my wife away from her home--by what right you
brought her on this voyage?"

"Before I answer that question, Mr.--Mr. Holbrook, as you choose to call
yourself, I'll ask you another. By what right do you call yourself my
daughter's husband? what evidence have you to produce to prove that you
are not a bare-faced impostor? You don't carry your marriage-certificate
about with you, I daresay; and in the absence of some kind of documentary
evidence, what is to convince me that you are what you pretend to be--my
daughter's husband?"

"The evidence of your daughter's own senses. Place me face to face with
her; she will not deny my identity."

"But how, if my daughter declines to see you, as she does most
positively? She has suffered enough at your hands, and is only too glad
to be released from you."

"She has suffered--she is glad to be released! Why, you most consummate
scoundrel!" cried John Saltram, "there never was an unkind word spoken
between my wife and me! She was the best, most devoted of women; and
nothing but the vilest treachery could have separated us. I know not what
villanous slander you have made her believe, or by what means you lured
her away from me; but I know that a few words between us would let in the
light upon your plot. You had better make the best of a bad position, Mr.
Nowell. As my wife's father, you know, you are pretty sure to escape.
Whatever my inclination might be, my regard for her would make me
indulgent to you. You'll find candour avail you best in this case,
depend upon it. Your daughter has inherited a fortune, and you want to
put your hand upon it altogether. It would be wiser to moderate your
desires, and be content with a fair share of the inheritance. Your
daughter is not the woma