t. And it was to say this you came. I
thank you. I bless you. But, my good, kind friend, you are deceived. You
don't know my husband. You never saw him. He perished at sea."

"Will it be kind or unkind, to tell you why I think he died as I tell
you, and not at sea?"

"Kind, but impossible. You deceive yourself. Ah, I see. You found some
poor sufferer, and were good to him; but it was not my poor Christie.
Oh, if it were, I should worship you. But I thank you as it is. It was
very kind to want to give me this little, little crumb of comfort; for
I know I did not behave well to you, sir: but you are generous, and have
forgiven a poor heart-broken creature, that never was very wise."

He gave her time to cry, and then said to her, "I only wanted to be sure
it WOULD be any comfort to you. Mrs. Staines, it is true I did not
even know his name; nor yours. When I met, in this very room, the great
disappointment that has saddened my own life, I left England directly. I
collected funds, went to Natal, and turned land-owner and farmer. I have
made a large fortune, but I need not tell you I am not happy. Well,
I had a yacht, and sailing from Cape Town to Algoa Bay, I picked up
a raft, with a dying man on it. He was perishing from exhaustion and
exposure. I got a little brandy between his lips, and kept him alive. I
landed with him at once: and we nursed him on shore. We had to be very
cautious. He improved. We got him to take egg-flip. He smiled on us at
first, and then he thanked us. I nursed him day and night for ten days.
He got much stronger. He spoke to me, thanked me again and again, and
told me his name was Christopher Staines. He told me that he should
never get well. I implored him to have courage. He said he did not want
for courage; but nature had been tried too hard. We got so fond of each
other. Oh!"--and the caitiff pretended to break down; and his feigned
grief mingled with Rosa's despairing sobs.

He made an apparent effort, and said, "He spoke to me of his wife, his
darling Rosa. The name made me start, but I could not know it was
you. At last he was strong enough to write a few lines, and he made me
promise to take them to his wife."

"Ah!" said Rosa. "Show them me."

"I will."

"This moment." And her hands began to work convulsively.

"I cannot," said Falcon. "I have not brought them with me."

Rosa cast a keen eye of suspicion and terror on him. His not bringing
the letter seemed monstrous; and so ind