what I call him now. Well,
two ugly dogs came in, and said, 'Let us see the flimsies, before you
see the kid.'

"'That is rather sharp practice, I think,' said I; 'however, here's the
swag, and here's the watch-dog.' So I put down the notes, and my hand
over them with my revolver cocked, and ready to fire."

"Yes, yes," said Rosa pantingly. "Ah, you were a match for them."

"Well, Mrs. Staines, if I was writing you a novel, I suppose I should
tell you the rogues recoiled; but the truth is they only laughed, and
were quite pleased. 'Swell's in earnest,' said one, 'Jem, show the
kid.' Jem whistled, and in came a great tall black gypsy woman, with the
darling. My heart was in my mouth, but I would not let them see it. I
said, 'It is all right. Take half the notes here, and half at the door.'
They agreed, and then I did it quick, walked to the door, took the
child, gave them the odd notes, and made off as fast as I could, hired a
nurse at the hospital--and the rest you know."

"Papa," said Rosa, with enthusiasm, "there is but one man in England who
would have got me back my child, and this is he."

When they were alone, Falcon told her she had said words that gladdened
his very heart. "You admit I can carry out one half of his wishes?" said
he.

Mrs. Staines said "Yes," then colored high; then, to turn it off, said,
"But I cannot allow you to lose that large sum of money. You must let me
repay you."

"Large sum of money!" said he. "It is no more to me than sixpence to
most people. I don't know what to do with my money; and I never shall
know, unless you will make a sacrifice of your own feelings to the
wishes of the dead. O Mrs. Staines--Rosa, do pray consider that a man of
that wisdom sees the future, and gives wise advice. Sure am I that,
if you could overcome your natural repugnance to a second marriage, it
would be the best thing for your little boy--I love him already as if
he were my own--and in time would bring you peace and comfort, and some
day, years hence, even happiness. You are my only love; yet I should
never have come to you again if HE had not sent me. Do consider how
strange it all is, and what it points to, and don't let me have the
misery of losing you again, when you can do no better now, alas! than
reward my fidelity."

She was much moved at this artful appeal, and said, "If I was sure I was
obeying his will. But how can I feel that, when we both promised never
to wed again?"

"A man's dyin